


The Power of Three

by mycitruspocket



Series: Of Bikes and Brollies [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Developing Relationship, Doctor Who References, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Holmes Brothers feels, Insecurity, M/M, Meeting the Family, Paternal Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:00:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 35,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mycitruspocket/pseuds/mycitruspocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For about 5 months now, her papa was talking about little else than his new partner Mycroft, utterly happy and with shiny eyes. Sue Lestrade thought it would be time to meet the man in person, she really didn't want to push it, but enough is enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Five and a Half Months

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this series, check out ["Past and Future Facets of Of Bikes and Brollies"](http://archiveofourown.org/series/41605) for all the little drabbles I write in this verse.
> 
> \---
> 
> My dear friend Erasmus_Jones does a beautiful job as my faithful beta and brit-picker. You have my eternal gratitude, Sweetie. *takes a bow*
> 
> The pretty covers are a gift from the wonderful [notluvulongtime](http://notluvulongtime.tumblr.com). Find the original post [here](http://notluvulongtime.tumblr.com/post/82474432070/happy-early-birthday-since-its-on-the-13th#) on tumblr. Thanks again, they are perfect!

 

_~ Greg’s POV ~_

One rainy October evening Greg walked the crime scene of a mysterious case, watching as Sherlock jumped around the splashy ground like an overexcited cat when his phone rang. Checking his watch quickly, he was relieved that he wasn’t late for his dinner with Mycroft, well he wasn’t late _yet._ When he saw that it was his daughter calling he waved over to John, indicating that he was on his own on Sherlock watch for the moment.

“Hey Sue, what’s up?”

“Hi papa, do you have a minute?”

“Sure, for you always. You know that.”

“Well, I can hear you’re at a crime scene, I’ll call back later.”

“No really, it’s OK. Hopefully I’ll be having dinner with Mycroft later but that depends on how cooperative his dear brother will be today.”

“Can you promise Sherlock’s not going to yell down the phone at me this time because he doesn’t have all your undivided attention?”

“I told you he thought I was speaking to Mycroft. To all our surprise though, he did apologise to you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, in his way. Whatever, I phoned because I wanted to ask if I can spend next weekend with you? Mum’s having one of her awful dinner parties and you know I hate them just as much as you did.”

“Oh, um… Well… Yeah sure, no problem.”

“Papa, you can’t fool me. Just tell me if you’ve planned something else.”

“That’s my girl,” Greg sighed, why was he surrounded by people he couldn’t fool even if his life would depend on it? “It’s just that Mycroft and I both took the weekend off because we haven’t spent a whole day together in... I don’t even know how long ago it was. But we haven’t either so as I said, no problem.”

“You could have both, you know?”

“What? You mean… Oh. All right, but I have to ask Mycroft first. Because, um… We haven’t really talked about it yet, to be honest.”

“Of course you haven’t! Men…” Now it was her turn to sigh, theatrically so. “You are afraid to ask because it shows how serious you are about the relationship and even if I don’t know him, I’m sure he doesn’t ask because he wants to put the whole meeting-the-family thing off as long as possible. I’m dying to meet him, papa! Combining the way you talk about him with the things Sherlock says, he must be a very interesting man. How long have you been together now?”

“5 and a half months.” Oh, that came out a tad more eager than intended.

“And a half, how sweet,” she giggled. “So, you’re going to ask him or I’ll find a way to do it myself.”

“Whoa young lady, calm down! Besides, if you can find a way to contact _him_ , you clearly spent too much time with Sherlock when you were younger.”

“Probably, because he taught me to swipe your phone years ago, but I’m sure he’d give me his number just to annoy you so I don’t think it would be big problem for me to get him on the phone.”

“You’re an evil girl and you know it. And just for the record, I’m not afraid to ask, I’ll do it tonight. If a miracle happens and I don’t have to cancel our dinner that is.”

“Sure. Call me tomorrow and tell me what he said, OK? Now you should go back to work, Sherlock’s ranting in the background is getting louder.”

“Yeah, you’re right, as always. Night my sugarbug, call you tomorrow.”

“Night papa, be careful, as always.”

“I will, bye.”

He hung up, suddenly feeling very confused. What had he gotten himself into? He had wanted to ask Mycroft several times if he would like to meet his daughter but Sue was right, he was afraid. Not because he was scared to admit his feelings for Mycroft. They had become very serious, very quickly once they finally admitted their emotions. No, it was that he’d never, ever seen Mycroft interact with kids at all and he simply did not know how he would react if he was forced to spend a day, or a weekend in this case, with a teenager. Well, he began to fear that he’ll find out soon.

*

Greg hurried from the cab, straightening his jacket and fastening his tie as he ran towards the restaurant. He was half an hour late and almost relieved as the waiter led him towards an empty table, he hadn’t even had a chance to think about how to go about asking Mycroft if he’d consider sharing their long awaited weekend with his daughter.

A soft kiss on his cheek let him forget his train of thoughts; he turned around to greet Mycroft with a warm smile and squeezed his hand which rested on his shoulder.

“Please forgive me, Gregory, I'm inconsolable about the delay.”

“Don’t worry, just got here myself. We’d deserve a medal of honour or something if we’re both on time one day.”

“But your timing could be improved if you would call upon the car more often, which is always at your service as you know.”

“Yeah, I know that. We talked about this, remember? As if you’d forget anything, but I don’t feel comfortable being chauffeured around all the time. Especially not alone.”

Much to Greg’s delight, the wine arrived just in time to distract Mycroft from one of his favourite topics lately. It was different since they had embarked upon their relationship. At the beginning, he just got into the black sedan without thinking when it held in front of him, because that’s what you do when you’re summoned to meet the elder Holmes. Even after they became friends it hadn’t really bothered him to be picked up by the car and driven to the location of their meeting. But now he had a number where a car would arrive minutes after his call, 24-7, to take him everywhere as fast as necessary. Very creepy in his opinion so he only used it very rarely, totally inscrutable for Mycroft.   

Nevertheless, they had a pleasant dinner, enjoying each other’s company until Greg got more nervous during dessert. Why was he nervous? This shouldn’t be such a great deal…

“Gregory, if you dislike the soufflé just let it return to the kitchen with dignity.”

“Oh!” Greg realised that he hadn’t actually eaten, just repeatedly stabbed the poor thing with his fork.

“Are you well, Gregory?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s um… It’s just that I wanted to talk to you about something but now that I think about it, it would be better if we talked in private.”

As Greg looked up into Mycroft’s eyes, for a short moment he saw them widening in horror and fright before all of it was hidden behind a cold mask. He sometimes forgot that this was the man’s first step into a romantic involvement and what he just said could easily be misunderstood by someone who hadn’t had to deal with this sort of things his whole life. Greg reached out his hand to lay it over Mycroft’s, hoping to reassure him that nothing bad was happening.

“My, look at me!” Mycroft looked up after staring at his empty plate. “Please, don’t tell me you thought I was going to break up with you? I’ve clearly be doing something wrong these past months if you even wasted one thought on that possibility.”

“Gregory, no. You have done nothing wrong, I assure you." Mycroft turned his hand, squeezing Greg’s in relief. "I apologise for the direction of my thoughts. I 'm truly sorry I leapt to an incorrect conclusion due to my inexperience.”

“You will never need to experience something like that, as far as I’m concerned.” Winking cheekily at him, he saw Mycroft relaxing again. “We have to work on your insecurity, Mr. Holmes.”

“Also on your ability to accept and enjoy certain benefits which comes with my acquaintance, Detective Inspector.”

“Yeah, that too.”  Seeing Mycroft smiling back at him wholeheartedly, suddenly bringing up the topic wasn’t that difficult anymore. “Listen Mycroft, I don’t know why I made a big thing out of it. It’s just that Sue wants to meet you and since she wants to escape her mother’s dinner party next weekend, I wanted to ask if I can bring here along, that’s all.”

“You want me to meet your daughter?” Mycroft sounded surprised and relieved, but the slight twitch in his left eyelid told Greg that it maybe was a great deal after all.

“Only if you want to. Otherwise we can wait, really, that’s OK. She’ll understand, she’s a big girl you know.”

“Gregory, I would be delighted to meet Susannah, please tell her she is welcome to spend the weekend with us, if she wishes to.”

“You sure? I mean I don’t want to push it, just seemed to be a good opportunity.”

“It is perfectly fine. My only concern is that she might be bored, my house is not well equipped for a young lady her age.”

“Oh My, that’s the last thing you should worry about. She’ll love your library, adore your piano and you better hide your Doctor Who DVD collection because she’ll force us to watch one of the new seasons. She can occupy herself but she’ll also love to spent time with us, said that she’s dying to meet you. Maybe I gush and sing your praises rather a lot and now she wants to check out that dashing gentleman I always talk about. ”

The pink flush on Mycroft’s cheeks led Greg’s thoughts to very different topics and continuing this part of the conversation in private would definitely be a good idea.

“Come on, let’s go. I’ll stay over at yours and on our way, I’m going to show you why I don’t mind get chauffeured with you at my side.”


	2. Wayward Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of doubt, reassurance and trust.

__

_~ Mycroft’s POV ~_

Sitting in the commodious back of the car that drove them towards his town house, with Greg’s hands sneaking under his waistcoat and his lips attached to his neck, Mycroft almost forgot the fear and panic he only felt minutes before. But it left a shockingly bitter aftertaste, making him realise that losing his Gregory was the one thing in his life he could never bear. It was foolish of him to think he would just leave him like that, there was absolutely no reason. Still, the thought of having to master his life without the grounding presence of his partner beside him, never feeling his touch again, was nourishment for his nightmares.  He rarely suffered them in the past, could only remember those from the time many years ago. The days when it had seemed impossible to draw Sherlock from the clutch of his addiction until Greg entered his life with offers of adrenalin and friendship as a substitute.

Mycroft had seen and done horrible things in his career, unimaginable to the average mind, but the only nightmares he ever suffered from were about losing his few loved ones.

But at the moment Gregory was right there, close, whispering in his ear as his bottom lip brushed his earlobe.

“Let me take care of you tonight, My. I know what you need.”

His voice was calming his mind and arousing his body, intoxicating his senses.

“Yes, please do.” Mycroft breathed out as he relaxed into the seat, closing his eyes to intensify the feeling of his lover’s touch.

Greg placed kisses along his jaw, licked at the corner of his open mouth and nudged their noses together while his fingers wiggled under his waistcoat to find a patch of skin between two buttons of his shirt.  

Mycroft shivered at the contact and his hand fell into Greg’s hair, caressing the back of his head to then pushing him gently down his body. Chuckling deeply on his way, Greg let himself be guided into his lap until Mycroft could feel his hot breath over his fly. As he began to carefully mouth at the bulge in his straining trousers, Mycroft pressed him down into his crotch once before letting his hand rest on Greg’s neck so he could feel the play of the muscles beneath his fingers.

It wasn’t the first time that Greg couldn’t keep his hands to himself and Mycroft was thankful that his car was already soundproof and equipped with a privacy screen as well as very comfortable backseats. Being the object of his lover’s desires, a lover who showed his affection so shamelessly, was still something that overwhelmed him. The constant stream of thoughts that ran through his mind slowed down as he felt the pressure of lips and scrapes of teeth trough the cotton of his suit trousers until they finally stopped entirely. No one had ever managed that, making him oblivious to everything but the sensation, letting go of everything but his partner’s embrace.

Mycroft was rock hard and his trousers were more than just a little damp as the car came to a stop at his residence and Greg’s voice was in his ear again.

“Nearly made you come in your fancy trousers, eh? Some other time maybe, now let me take you inside and we’ll get you out of them.”

Feeling dizzy as he opened his eyes, Greg was already out of the car and holding the door open, reaching out his hand to lead Mycroft towards the house. Once they were inside, he was pressed against the door with a gentle force and Gregory told him to close his eyes again as he began to undress him, pushing away his fingers as he tried to do the same.

So he rested his head against the wood and let his lover do his magic; worshipping him like no one else ever had, making him feel desirable and beautiful, praising him in ways he had never thought possible.

Greg always seemed to know exactly what he needed and right now he seemed determined to quieten his brain with gentle caresses and soft kisses all over his body. As Greg was on his knees in front of him, helping him out of his trousers and underwear, Mycroft couldn’t resist opening his eyes. Standing naked and aroused in front of his fully clothed partner made him feel exposed in a very exhilarating way, and it sent shivers down his spine. But as Greg began to kiss his way up his cock, his eyes fluttered close again, a deep growl escaping him as it was sucked into welcoming warmth. Too soon it was cold again, the wet mouth on his lips instead, whispering.

“Follow my lead, keep your eyes closed and trust me.”

With his hands taken by Gregory he was guided to what he knew to be the sitting room, where he was pushed onto the sofa with caution. Apparently Greg had knelt down again because his hands were spreading his legs, guiding them up to rest over his shoulders. Gregory caught his wrists, pinning them into the cushions while he licked circles over his inner thigh and as he reached his balls, there was clearly no rational thought left in Mycroft’s mind. It felt like he whimpered, begged and cried out at the same time, unable to control even one single muscle in his body. Mycroft was completely at Greg’s mercy as he licked and sucked between his legs, humming in satisfaction at every sound he coaxed out of him. It was the sweetest torture, like drowning in a sea of sensation. Never enough to bring him over the edge, just enough to keep him highly aroused.

Time became abstract with Gregory’s ministrations, so much so that he lost track of the outside world completely until his legs were carefully draped over the arm rest of the sofa, so he had to turn and suddenly lay on his back. He heard the rustling of fabric, assuming Greg was finally getting undressed himself but didn’t open his eyes, wanting to be surprised by the next contact. And there it was; a hand on his cheek, stroking before it rested beside his head. A bare knee brushing his left hip, then another his right and Greg straddled him, bending down for a sweet kiss. Taking his hand, Gregory guided it to curl around his cock, showing Mycroft just how hard he was from pleasuring him without being touched himself, which made them both moan in unison.

Mycroft stroked him slowly but firmly, enjoying how soft and silky the skin felt that covered the hard flesh. Twisting his hand just so he knew was making Greg mad with want and rubbing his thumb over the spot just below the head, he was rewarded with low moans of pleasure. Greg took his cock in his hand in return and Mycroft found it difficult to concentrate on his movements whilst being stroked himself. But it was not long until they were both panting heavily and Greg gripped his wrist to stop his motions.

“Stop,” he breathed and bent down again, speaking only inches away from his lips. “I want to kiss you when you come.”

Mycroft, no longer able to speak, just nodded weakly and arched up into him for more contact before Greg lay down slowly on top of him. Lining up their erections between their bodies, Greg began to move in a steady rhythm whilst kissing him deeply.

They stole each other’s breaths, swallowed each other’s sounds until one came first and the other followed shortly after. Their lips never parted, moving together with every wave of pleasure that was running through their bodies as they clung to each other in desperate passion. Greg forced his eyes to remain open, savouring the unrestrained bliss showing on Mycroft’s face, who was currently in the only corner of his mind where nothing else mattered but the both of them.

*

Mycroft lay awake, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom with both arms crossed behind his head. Usually, he always found a good night’s sleep with Gregory’s naked body pressed against his own, was soothed into sweet dreams whilst his lover’s breath tingled on his chest. But his thoughts went back to the restaurant and he replayed their conversation. Greg’s head rose and fell with his breathing but stirred as he let out a deep sigh.

“Gregory?” Mycroft whispered.

“You should be sleepy, not thinky,” was the mumbled reply. Mycroft took a moment to relish the brushing of Greg’s lips against his skin and the vibration of his voice that was seeping into it. He loved these little intimate moments and stored each of them safely away in his memory.

“I want you to know that I would be most honoured to meet your daughter.”

“But?”

Oh this man knew him too well. Mycroft reached out to play with the grey strands of his hair because it always soothed his nerves. In the pale streetlight that was illuminating the bedroom, somehow they looked lighter than usual, almost white with dark silver highlights. Gregory’s hair would always be one of those mysteries in life even he couldn’t uncover.

“You said _she_ wants to meet me. Do _you_ want _me_ to meet her?”

“Oh Mycroft…” Greg raised his head and his heavy lidded eyes searched for his. “Let me tell you something.” With his arms crossed over Mycroft’s bare chest, Greg looked him deep in the eyes. One hand was resting directly over his heart and Mycroft was embarrassed for its fast beating until a loving smile made him forget about it. Letting his fingers stroke the nape of Greg’s neck, he waited until his partner found the right words in his endearingly sleepy state.

“Actually, I’ve wanted to ask you several times already, but I thought you would be uncomfortable with it. Well, I still think that to be honest, but I also know that you will like each other. You two are the most important people in my life and having to choose with whom I’m going to spent my rare days off is the most horrible thing in the world. Sue said I could have both and she’s right, and she’s always right just so you know. So yes, _I_ really want _you_ to meet her, too.”

“Thank you, my dear Gregory. I must again apologise for my wayward thoughts.” He was repeatedly ashamed of his doubting notions today.

Leaning forward, Greg pecked him on the nose. A lovely gesture Mycroft was very fond of and it never failed to reassure him. “You don’t need to. I understand that you’re nervous about it. I’d be too if I was about to meet your mother, for example.”

“You want to meet my mother?” How delightfully surprising Gregory was today, but this scenario was even more frightful than the thought of meeting his partner’s daughter, who would most likely find him unbelievably boring and too posh to even take him seriously.

“I want to meet your mother just as much as you want to meet my daughter. But that’s how it works, My. So we’re in this together, you really shouldn’t worry about it so much. And now go to sleep. I know you always sleep better when I’m with you. No shadows under your eyes when I wake up beside you.” After brushing his thumb over Mycroft’s cheekbone, Greg bedded his head on his shoulder and swung one arm across his chest to hold him close.

“Night, My.” He mumbled into his shoulder while Mycroft still couldn’t let go of his hair.

“Good night, Gregory. Sleep well.”

“At your side? Always. Just like you.”

 

 


	3. Delicate Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of secrets, memories and kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your lovely comments and kudos so far, I cherish each and every one of them. :)
> 
> As always, Ersamus_Jones did a superb job as my beta. Thanks, Sweetie. I know I should stop saying it every time, but I'm just so grateful...

_~ Greg’s POV ~_

  
Greg almost fell out of the bed as Mycroft’s personal mobile rang on the bedside table, filling the dark room with the impatient notes of Grieg’s ‘Hall of the Mountain King’. Although not fully awake, he sensed he was alone in the bed and the distinctive ringtone made him grasp for the phone instinctively. It meant Sherlock was calling, and him calling his brother at what the clock revealed was 5:37, could mean he was in imminent danger after all. If he still remembered their talk about what constituted an emergency, that is. Greg wiped over the screen with his thumb, closing his eyes again as soon as he held the phone to his ear.  
  
“This better be good, Sherlock,” He mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.  
  
“Lestrade?” Sherlock shrieked and Greg winced at the loud volume, holding the phone a few inches away from his ear. Answering Mycroft’s phone probably hadn’t been such a good idea.  
  
“Yeah, who else is going to be answering your brother’s phone at 5 fucking 40?”

“That is precisely the point, there is no one who should be answering my brother’s phone but himself. Give him to me immediately!”  
  
“Can’t.”  
  
“What? Where is he?”  
  
“Shower.”

“Then go in and tell him I demand to speak to him.”  
  
“Nope.”

“Have you lost the ability to speak in complete sentences? This is absurd, hand him the phone this instance.”  
  
“Listen Sherlock, you don’t sound like you’re dying and I’m not going to disturb his morning routine, are we clear? You have to wait until he calls you back.”  
  
“That’s not tolerable!”  
  
“Since he hasn’t installed a phone in the shower and I’m not going anywhere, you have no other option.”

“Lestrade, you will follow my orders or…”  
  
“Or what? As I’m lying naked in your brother’s bed, I’m sure you agree that he’s the only one whose orders I’d be willing to follow right now. Now fuck off and ask John to remind you again what exactly an emergency is.” But just as he had planned, Sherlock had hung up before he even stopped speaking and he wondered how long this little trick would continue to work. Probably forever.  
  
Just to be sure, he opened one eye to navigate through the setting to turn the phone on vibrate so he could dose off again until Mycroft emerged from the bathroom, which would give him good 30 minutes of precious sleep. Cursing because his fingers were just too thick for these bloody modern phones, he wiped his eyes and propped himself up on both elbows to look at the screen properly and suddenly he froze. Was that a picture of him on Mycroft’s private phone? No, surely he just needed to have his eyes tested? He didn’t remember Mycroft ever taking a photograph of him. Greg blinked once, twice but it was sill him, in profile and at the restaurant where they had dined last night. The number 42 behind this little preview picture practically begged to be noticed and he found himself touching the screen to open the album. What he saw now, he never thought possible. 42 pictures all of him, taken without him noticing and in various domestic and intimate situations. The album showed the new ones first, the last one being him at the restaurant, deep in thought ~~s~~ while he waited for Mycroft.  
  
He knew he shouldn’t be looking, this was very private and Mycroft would be terribly embarrassed that his little secret was discovered. But the shower was still running and he was too curious and admittedly too touched that Mycroft secretly took pictures of him. He must have been very sneaky because Greg never noticed. Someone else would have been appalled to have a stalking partner, would call it creepy but Greg was aware of Mycroft’s abilities to see everything and beyond. A few pictures were nothing compared to all the surveillance footage he must have seen over the years.  
  
He began to scroll through them and there were a few just like the last, him waiting for Mycroft somewhere they were supposed to meet. Some were of him cooking in Mycroft’s kitchen, sitting on his sofa reading or watching telly. Greg’s heart swelled when he saw the ones of him sleeping, most of them taken in this very bed. Mycroft actually watched him sleep, how romantic was that? Greg caught himself doing the same from time to time because he loved to see his features relaxed and in peace, but couldn’t imagine Mycroft having a sentimental weakness like that. He took a closer look at those; mostly, Mycroft had zoomed to his face but there were plenty which revealed more and showed him in quite delicate positions. Very pleasant and arousing memories flooded his mind, making him roll his hips against the mattress unconsciously.  
  
Scrolling further up, Greg reached the early days of their relationship, pictures of the weekend they finally got together and he felt a sweet ache pooling in his belly as he saw what must be one of the last pictures by now, the first time they woke up together. Strangely, it went on, there were more of the days when they became friends. Him smoking before he and Mycroft decided to stop, again, together this time. Greg in the kitchen at Baker Street and one of him sleeping on the sofa there. But his breath caught as he saw the last pictures in the album. They were taken from afar, showing him at crime scenes and were of very bad quality. They must be more than 7 years old, from the time they first met. Mycroft had already admitted that he had wanted him for a long time, but Greg would never have thought he meant something like love at first sight. He had been married back then, happily so for a few more years to come and he hurried to scroll back down because the thought of a lonely Mycroft, admiring a man he thought he would never have, was too much to bear.  
  
The sound of the shower stopped and he knew Mycroft would shave next, which gave him more time to think about what he just discovered. He couldn’t just talk to him about it, Mycroft would be angry to mask his embarrassment and would probably stop adding more pieces to this flattering collection. Probably delete them all, thinking Greg would make fun of him for clinging on to this endearing memories and never believe how touched he was, knowing that all those moments were captured by him digitally, not only saved by his eidetic memory. There must be a reason he had taken them and copied the old ones over to each new phone over the years. When did he look at them? Occasions like last night because the picture folder was already on display as the call ended. Mycroft was distressed yesterday, had let his thoughts wander in dangerous territory, but Greg was already used to Mycroft’s inability to deduce certain things about their relationship. Which doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt him every time his partner’s insecurity surfaced. But they were slowly getting there, Mycroft still needed reassurance which Greg was always happy to supply, but he wasn’t always present. Maybe that was what the photos were for? Remembering him of what they have when Greg wasn’t around? But it didn’t really matter why he’d taken and kept them, Greg knew the only way to deal with Mycroft’s confidential photo shoots in the most affirmative way.  
  
He flopped over onto his back, switched the front camera on and struggled out from under the duvet. The first picture he took was a portrait shot, him smiling into the camera with his hair all messy. A few horrendously unflattering and deleted attempts later, he managed to get another picture of himself with the intention that Mycroft would want to talk about it. Photographed from his belly, revealing his navel and just a hint of the delicious trail of hair running downwards, up to his face. His head propped up on his arm, he winked alluringly. Now, he could only hope that these photos showed how much he approved of his lover’s little hobby and he wished he could see Mycroft’s face when he discovered pictures 43 and 44. He’d probably have to wait, not knowing how frequently he looked at them, but he was sure whatever happened it would be worth the wait.  
  
Putting the phone away he turned around to lie on his front again and closed his eyes until he heard the bathroom door open. Greg raised his head to sneak around, enjoying the view of Mycroft walking towards him, clad only in a towel slung low on his hips.

“Hmmm, mornin’ gorgeous,” Greg muffled into his own shoulder.  
  
“Good Morning, Gregory,” Mycroft chuckled, sitting down on the edge of the bed to ruffle his hair and bending down to kiss it afterwards.  
  
Greg saw his chance and quickly turned to pull him down for a deep kiss. Probably too deep to count as a simple good morning kiss, but his emotions had been on a rollercoaster ride the last hour and he just needed to give something back. But he also knew Mycroft would be late for work if he didn’t stop now, so he released him with a small sigh.  
  
“Now tell me, what have I done to deserve such a welcome?” Straightening his slightly mussed hair again he stood, walking over to the wardrobe.  
  
“I don’t need a reason to kiss you like that.” Proud that his comment had caused Mycroft to laugh heartily, he settled down comfortably to watch him dress. One of his charcoal pinstriped suits, white shirt and red tie, meaning he had very important meetings today.  
  
“Sherlock called you, by the way. He’ll probably annoy you again today, so be warned.” Greg told him casually while Mycroft knotted his tie. He could see the slight shock that went through him, not knowing if it was caused by his brother’s call or because Greg had answered his phone. Maybe both. He already regretted saying something, but he would have found out sooner or later.  
  
“I will be prepared then,” was the cool answer as Mycroft gave his appearance one last check in the mirror before he came over to put his phone safely away into his jacket pocket.  
  
“Yeah. Um, fancy another dinner this week or are you all booked up?”  
  
“Regrettably, my time will be very limited this week due to my planned absence at the weekend. I'm terribly sorry, Gregory, but I may have to travel overseas for a short time.” The pain in his eyes demonstrated the hurt it caused him to deny Greg his simple wish. Mycroft sat down on the bed again, reaching out to stroke his cheek and Greg covered his hand with his own, pressing it against his skin.  
  
“It’s OK, My. You’ll call me then, when you find the time, all right?”  
  
“I will.” Mycroft kissed him good bye, also a bit more heated than appropriate, knowing there was no time to indulge in anything more than this kiss and left him gasping. Standing up quickly, Greg only caught him grinning smugly before he rushed out of the room but stopped on the threshold. He turned, looked at him from under his lashes and spoke in a low, seductive voice.  
  
“I do not require a reason either! Enjoy your shower, Gregory.”  
  
And then he was gone. Only the snap of the door falling shut stirred Greg out of his fantasy where he was pressed against wet tiles and slippery hands were roaming over his body. He leaped out of the bed and into the bathroom, this was going to be a long and very pleasant shower.

 

\---

_Do you want to see a few of Mycroft's secret pictures? Yeah, I knew you would like to, so[here you go](http://my-citrus-pocket.tumblr.com/post/56051407543/the-power-of-three-update-to-brighten-up-your)._

 


	4. Wise Beyond her Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of colours, curry and concern.

_~ Greg's POV ~_

 

They sat in a small pub, Greg frowning over a coke and Sue sipping her milkshake. His daughter watched him intently but Greg didn't even notice she had stopped talking.

"Hey papa, you still with me?"

"Oh um, sorry. Yeah, 'cos I am."

"No, you’re not, not really. Everything OK?"

"Sure."

His smile wouldn't even have fooled the bartender and Sue raised her eyebrows.

"Tell me." Sue laid her hand on his arm and squeezed gently. Her dark brown eyes, so much like his own, looked up at him with persistence and concern. How could he refuse, no matter how stupid the reason has been?

"It's nothing important, really. Sometimes Mycroft has to work abroad for a while. He left two days ago and I haven't heard from him yet. I just get nervous when I don't know where he is and if he's well. See? That's all, just your old man behaving like a love sick teenager, I'm sorry."

"I don't think missing your boyfriend and being worried about him is something you should apologise for." Sometimes she was far too wise for her age, Greg thought. "You’ve never told me what he does for a living and Sherlock just snorted when I asked him once."

"Because that's a thing you’d be best asking him yourself. Let's see if he's changed his standard response by now."

"Sounds like some spying business if you ask me. He's away a lot, can't tell you where he's going, what he's doing and can't contact you.”

Greg laughed wearily. "No, he's not a spy. Not anymore I suppose."

"Ha, so he was?" Sue grinned triumphantly. "But what do you mean, you suppose?"

"We never talked about it. I just assumed he could have been." Greg admitted, knowing it sounded stupid after all the time they’d known each other.

"Seriously, you two should talk more."

Rolling his eyes, Greg looked away into the distance.

"I mean it, not just as a lame phrase." She pointed at him with one of her chips. "Look at me, Mister. I might not have your countless years of experience, but I know certain things. One of them is that you should talk about important stuff, including work and worries. You once said that you are practically his only friend, who else has he got to talk about his past with?" Sue grabbed her glass and sat back on her chair, slurping audibly through the straw to catch the last drops on the bottom.

Greg's frown deepened; his 15 year old daughter shouldn't know more about these things than him.

"However, isn't it much too cold for a milkshake?" He didn’t intend to sound so petulant and wondered who actually was the mature one in this conversation.

"It's never too cold for milkshakes and never too late to have a talk. But right now, we have shopping to do. Come along, let's get you something nice for the weekend!"

Sue hopped off her chair, running outside and Greg honestly didn't know what his life would be without her. Much less colourful for a start, he thought as he followed her, knowing she wouldn't allow him to buy even one of those plain shirts he usually wore.

 

*

“No, don’t put it back papa, you should take it.”

“It’s too expensive Sue, I’ll find something else.”

“But it looks so good on you, believe me. You said yourself that Mycroft likes fancy clothes, so you should spend a bit more occasionally.”

“That’s not the kind of fancy I meant. He wouldn’t even notice the difference between this shirt and the ones I usually wear.” Although, he had to admit that Mycroft always complimented him particularly nicely when he wore something Sue had suggested he buy.

“Oh dear, you have no idea, do you? It’s always the same with you! Come here.” She pulled Greg in front of the next mirror, pressing the blue button down shirt against his chest. “See, the colour goes so lovely with your hair. Imagine a light grey suit and you’d look absolutely smashing. Besides, it’s TARDIS-blue which makes it even cooler.”

“Yeah, I see your point, but…”

“No buts, I’ll leave this scarf, I have loads anyway.” She turned to lay it back but Greg grabbed it out of her hands.

“Not so fast young Lady. You have to have something for putting up with me every time and yes, if you insist, I’ll take it.”

“Great, you’ll see, Mycroft will love it.”

“And how would you know?”

“He’s not blind, papa.” And off she went towards the till.

 

*

Standing on the front door of the house that was once his home, Greg bent down, dropping a kiss onto Sue’s chestnut brown hair. While you could clearly see that she was her father’s child, she inherited her mother’s petite figure. 

“I’ll pick you up at 6 tomorrow, but you know I could be late. Want to try the new curry recipe you mailed me last week for dinner?”

“Yes, great! If Mycroft likes curry, that is.”

“Well, he’s liked everything I’ve cooked for him so far. So long as there’s no meat in it.”

“Very congenial person, your Mycroft.”

“He is, but I think he’s pretty nervous about meeting you.”

“Really? How cute, but he shouldn’t be.”

“I know, told him so.”

“What? That he’s cute or shouldn’t be nervous?”

“Both, actually. Seriously, just be kind and give him some time to adjust to the situation, yeah?”

“Sure, papa.”

“Thanks, my sugarbug. See you tomorrow, then.” He ruffled her hair and turned to walk down the stairs.

“Bye.” She waved at him and Greg smiled back before he walked out onto the pavement, deciding to just walk home instead of taking the tube.

He didn’t know if Mycroft would even be there tomorrow, still no word of him. Now that he was alone, the worries began nagging at him again. He’d never talked to Mycroft about it because he thought it sounded too clingy, but he really was worried about him and a short text or mail about his well-being would have been enough to calm him down. Probably his own job was far more risky, still Mycroft could be in a country where the abduction of important looking people was a common hobby.

Reaching his flat, Greg threw himself face down on the sofa, trying to push the sorrows out of his mind. When his phone rang from the coffee table, he almost fell off the sofa in his scramble to reach for it and answer.

 

\---

 _In my mind,_ _Sue looks a bit like[Maisie Williams](http://static1.refinery29.com/bin/entry/868/300x/1065700/maisie-opener.jpg)._


	5. Visual Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of relaxation – the Mycroft Holmes way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to be in the right mood for this chapter, listen to this whilst reading:  
> [Daft Punk, Nightvision](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xBTqRd09y3E)

__

_~ Mycroft’s POV ~_

Mycroft just needed to relax for a few minutes, give his brain a little time out. His much needed ritual after concluding a particularly complicated crisis, much like the one that had demanded his complete focus for the past several days. He needed to remind himself that there were other things in the world than terrorism, intrigue and politics. That there was a person waiting for him that combined every worthy trait it was possible to possess. Knowing that made him believe in humanity again.

Justice, courage, sympathy and devotion were only the first ones he had seen in Gregory Lestrade, and so many insights into the personality of this marvellous man followed over the years. He had started taking photos of Greg because he wanted to immortalise the moments when certain traits showed, in order to look at them when he began to lose faith, the images renewed him swiftly and without fail. Every one of his 42 pictures had its own name and Mycroft knew exactly which one he needed to look at to get him onto the right path again. Right now it was _Patience_ , because he had been in a hurry to conclude his work before Friday so he would be home for the weekend.

While he listened to the falling rain outside, he reached for his phone in search for the image of Gregory waiting for him on a bench in Regents Park, his arm casually thrown over the back rest. Mycroft would always remember how perfect it had felt as he sat down and that strong arm wrapped around his shoulder, holding him close. However, instead of the warm and familiar feeling of belonging, a coldness wrenched his heart and as if on cue, a rolling thunder resounded from outside.

44

Mycroft was lucky that he was already sitting on his hotel bed because otherwise he might have passed out. He stared in shock at his phone from which brown eyes looked directly at him. Recovering slowly while the thunder storm passed by, he noticed Greg’s smile and his tousled bed hair which calmed him down enough to condemn his recurring thoughts that the happiest time of his life would finally end. He honestly didn’t know why he kept thinking of those horrible scenarios because the fact that Greg was smiling fondly on this photo was certainly a good sign. When his brain caught up eventually, the date told him that this photo had been taken on Monday morning. Thinking back, Greg had been in a rather dreamy and lustful mood as Mycroft left for work so everything was fine, wasn’t it? But which partner who found a creepy collection of stalker photos would be pleased? Gregory Lestrade obviously, because he certainly wouldn’t have taken a second photo of himself in a pose that didn’t require a tremendous amount of imagination to assume he approved of his discovery.

Yes, Mycroft had to admit that he had taken a few pictures for a much less honourable purpose; surviving lonely nights. Nights in which he needed the bodily pleasures to forget about anything else. Nights when his mind was exhausted from advising and planning, with no one there to take care of him. Before he had the honour of going to sleep and waking up beside his Gregory, he mostly fantasised about what could happen between them, but now he had quite a number of memories to rely on. He simply had to catch some of them for his little collection and he was indeed very fond of his _The Morning After_ series of photographs. But this new one was special, this time the memories of what they shared the night before replayed in Mycroft’s mind while he looked at his lover winking alluringly into the camera, exposing his body for his eyes only and in the most delicious manner. It wasn’t a sneaky picture taken by a nervous Mycroft who feared rousing his dearest object of desires; Greg had positioned himself on purpose to arouse him and going by what was happening in his pyjama trousers at the moment, he very much succeeded.

His hand was already sneaking down his body when he decided that it would be much nicer to reward Gregory for his kind understanding and his hot, little gift by letting him be an active part of his relaxation exercise. Quickly he undressed, arranged the pillows against the headboard to make himself comfortable and took in the sexy image of Greg on his silky sheets once more before dialling his number.


	6. The Power of Imagination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of loneliness, distance and vocalised fantasies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your kind words and kudos!  
> \---  
> When I fail to express my feelings properly in the English language, I can always count on Erasmus_Jones, she always knows exactly what I meant in the first place. I treasure every single one of her suggestions and she enriched this chapter, and all the others, immensely. :)

_~ Greg’s POV ~_

“Mycroft, hey!” Greg tried to conceal his relief that Mycroft finally found the time to call him, but he knew he would hear it in his voice nevertheless.

“Gregory, would you care to explain the little present I found?”

It took Greg a moment to remember what the hell Mycroft was talking about in such a low, seductive voice. With all his worries he had forgotten about the pictures he took and their purpose.

“Well, I thought you could have some fun with them, all alone, somewhere private. Do you like them?”

“Indeed I do, Gregory. I am enjoying them immensely. Right now, in fact.”

A soft moan, barely audible, reached his ear and Greg sank back into the sofa cushions.

“Are you now, Mycroft? And what exactly is it that you are doing?”

“You want details? Not so fast, my dear. Firstly you are going to tell me what you are wearing and where you are.”

Another moan, this time louder and the rustle of sheets. This was going to be interesting so he better follow Mycroft's orders to see where this was leading.

“I’m sitting on my sofa, wearing blue jeans, a white shirt and a black jumper.”

“Hmm, very appealing but far too much clothing, I need you naked. Take your clothes off and lie down on your bed, just as you posed for the photo. Quickly.”

The impatient sigh on the other end of the line spoke volumes and Greg shed his cloths unceremoniously on his way to the bedroom, the phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear so he wouldn’t miss a single one of those beautiful noises.

“Are you ready?”

“Just…” Greg hopped on one leg, trying to kick off his trousers. “…hold on…”

“I cannot wait any longer Gregory, I will have to start without you if you do not hurry.”

Finally Greg sat on the bed, pulling off his socks. “Judging by the sounds I’m hearing, you’ve already begun.”

Another moan made him growl back into the phone as he fell backwards onto the mattress.

“Not quite, I'm just imagining. Would you like to know what exactly it is, that I'm thinking about?”

Mycroft almost breathed out the last words and Greg shuffled on the bed to lie down like he had for the photo. One arm tucked under his head, the other now holding the phone in place and it dawned to him what this position would probably mean.

“Yes. I’m ready.” And he was more than just ready, lying naked on his bed, rock hard already and desperate. 

“Then we shall begin. I assume you have already surmised that you are not allowed to touch yourself? Keep your hands where they are, you will do nothing more than listen to me.”

“Yeah, I thought as much.” He tried to relax; this wasn’t going to be easy. When Mycroft was like this, when he wanted to show off the power he had over Greg, he was usually very physical. Mycroft could hold him down or press him against a wall with a seemingly impossible strength for a man with his physique. On the other hand, Mycroft never fought much when Greg wanted to exercise his dominant side, he always became absolutely pliant under his touch that it almost hurt Greg to watch how quickly he was able to drain all the power out of him.

But Greg needs to feel it, needs to fight back and he wasn’t sure if Mycroft’s voice alone would be enough to restrain him. But he was about to find out.

“Listen to me, Gregory. Listen closely.” He did whilst pressing the phone to his ear painfully, using the pain to focus on and not let his free hand wander downwards.

“Every time I touch myself, I imagine your hand on me. I did that long before it was appropriate for me to do so, but I didn’t care because it felt so much better. It feels better now, your hand on my cock, squeezing lightly because you know how I like it. Oh Gregory… yes… just like that.”

Without shame, Greg moaned out his frustration. He could see himself doing it, looming over Mycroft, touching him like he had so often before. Undeterred, Mycroft went on, his voice sinfully low and breathy.

“Your other hand is there, too. It's sneaking hnnngg oh… I'is sneaking its way between my cheeks, teasing me. Oh how cruel, you know you can’t have me like this now. No, don’t you dare licking your finger and… ah Gregory…”

How cruel indeed, Greg had closed his eyes, indulging in the fantasy that Mycroft quickly lulled him into and rocking his hips up into nothing but cold air. He fisted his hand into his hair, needing some way to anchor the errant limb before it defied Mycroft’s instructions.

“Hmmm yes… the way you touch my balls, so careful because you are aware how sensitive they are. Ahh… I’m getting close , so close Gregory. Oh what you do to me. Undone already just imagining how you kiss them, take them into your mouth and suck at them so very softly. You… You have to stop. Oh Gregory, you really have to stop now or I… ohhooooh that was close, so very close. “

Greg bit his lip to distract himself from the sounds of Mycroft panting like this, he could tell he really had been close but had still managed to control himself. He himself was beginning to lose it completely, thinking about how Mycroft must look now, all flushed with pre come glistening low on his belly. When he spoke again, it sounded even filthier than before, out of breath and control.

“Oh Gregory, your wicked smile, now you are lowering your head and yes! That is where your lovely mouth belongs. I grab your hair, push you down so you have to take all of me. Hmmmm do not stop this time, keep going…”

Mycroft’s panting increased again, he wouldn’t stop another time from the sound of it. Greg was torn between cursing his lover for making him helplessly listening to him coming in his imaginary mouth and thinking about what it felt like when he did in reality.

It seemed that Mycroft had lost the ability of controlled speech. Eventually, he moaned just like he did every time Greg sucked him off. His breathing grew even heavier and Greg could only make out the words he mumbled along because he knew what he was saying. The phone had probably shifted in his sweaty hand, away from his mouth but Greg heard him in his mind nevertheless. The praising, the whimpering, the pleading for more. And what he heard even clearer was his name, shouted out into the night to reach his ears so many miles away.

It took all he had to wait until Mycroft was back on the phone again to not touch his erection that bobbed angrily up and down with his own irregular breathing.

“Now, let me take care of you, may I?”

“Oh Mycroft, yes please. But I don’t think I can…”

“Yes you can! Lie still, do you hear me? No touching until I give you permission”

“I’ll try.”

“No, you won’t try, you will simply do as I say.” And somehow the sharp, commanding tone worked like a tight grip around his wrists and his hands were still where they should be.

“Now you imagine what I would do if I were with you now. Picture me over you, pinning you into the mattress whilst trailing kisses down your arm and over your chest.”

Greg could feel it, he had enough stored memories to know exactly what it was like to have Mycroft’s lips exploring him.

“Now let my guide your hand as if it were mine.”

Greg could just huff weakly, but he eased the grip on his hair to free his hand.

“I’m running my fingers through your chest hair, admiring the strength beneath as you buck up into the contact. You crave my touch, don’t you?”

“Oh God Mycroft, yes I do. You know I always do.”

Thinking it wasn’t his own hand but did instead belong to the man he longed for so much was just as easy for him as it had seemed for Mycroft earlier. They probably spent an equal amount of lonely nights doing exactly that.

“I play with your nipples while you are writhing in my grip, I twist them between my fingers until they are hard and then I bite down, making you cry out as I sooth them with my tongue, slipping it back and forth over the sensitive flesh, knowing it makes you dance beneath me, Gregory.”

The thought alone had made him groan deeply, but he added the twist for good measure and gasped from the sensation.

“Crawling down your body, I leave your hands unprotected, but they will stay in place when I kiss my way to your belly. You know how much I like to sink my teeth into the soft flesh, right below your navel. That’s why you took the photo from there, isn’t it?”

It was hard for Greg to concentrate on words right now, his mind was full of the blissfully sounds Mycroft made when he was down there, licking, biting and kissing. “Mhmhh,” was all he was able to mumble through his gritted teeth.

“Yes, you always enjoy it as much as I do.” The vibrations of the deep chuckle raised goose bumps as if Mycroft had delivered it with his lips on Greg’s skin and not through a wire. 

“You behave so perfectly for me, Gregory. So impeccably that I cannot possibly deny you any further. I take you in hand, showing you how well I know your preferences in return.”

Greg could hardly believe his luck as he was finally allowed to put a hand on himself. He pulled on his cock, not as gently as Mycroft would have done it but he was beyond gentle now.

“That is why I stop to lick my hand, lustfully appreciating your taste on me, because you like it nicely wet.”

Oh that wicked man. Hastily Greg dragged his tongue over his palm to resume his stroking business as fast as possible. He groaned shamelessly into the phone, in his mind Mycroft was straddling his legs, looking up at him with a smug grin on his face while his hand moved rhythmically up and down his length.

“Yes Gregory, that’s how you like it. Now come, come over my hand and over your pretty belly so I can lick you clean afterwards.”

That did it, the memory of Mycroft humming contently whilst licking warm semen out of his bellybutton. He pressed the phone so tightly against his ear as he came, stuttering the syllables of Mycroft’s name through the line, that it left visible marks on his ear.

After Greg took a moment to get his breath back, panic rose inside of him that Mycroft could have hung up already.

“My? My, are you still there?”

“Of course I am. Did I ever leave our shared bed without holding you, savouring the moment when we calm down together until we breathe in unison?”

“Aw, you do enjoy that, don’t you? Oh My, I wish I could hold you now.”

Greg knew by now that under his cold facade, Mycroft was a deeply sensitive and very passionate man. Since they had been together, he openly admitted his feelings and his desire towards Greg, but this was actually one of the sweetest things he had ever heard him say. The urge to wrap his arms around him was so strong that he could barely stand the distance between them.

“I know, Gregory. I am truly sorry I kept you waiting for so long and I promise I will be home tomorrow for our shared weekend.”

Greg had to play it down, had to because it was suddenly all too much. “You better be! Sue even made me buy a new shirt, would be a shame if you weren’t there to admire me in it.”

“Indeed, it would be a great shame.” A deep yawn made its way through the phone and Greg couldn’t stifle a giggle.

“Oh, someone worked himself into the ground, giving his boyfriend an imaginary hand job?”

“So it seems. Besides, sleep has eluded me these past days without you. Would you forgive me if I bid my farewell to you already? My plane leaves in a few hours and I wish to be fully rested for the days that lay ahead of us.”

“Yeah, you do that. Because I can’t promise how much sleep you’ll get this weekend.”

“Gregory!” Mycroft sounded honestly shocked. “I was assuming we would contain ourselves because your daughter will be present!”

“But certainly not in your bedroom! Calm down, My. She’s old enough to know what we are doing there anyway.”

“I am not sure I will feel comfortable, knowing someone else is in the house.”

“Well, then I will have to convince you. Now go to sleep, love. I don’t want to see bags under your eyes tomorrow. Please don’t worry too much, promise me?”

“I promise, my dear Gregory. Rest assured that my thoughts are with you.”

“Night, My. Miss you, too.” He managed to say, even with a lump forming in his throat at Mycroft’s last words. He let the phone fall onto the pillow and rubbed at his heated ear. Yes, he will also need all the rest he can get to successfully prevent Mycroft from driving himself to a nervous breakdown tomorrow. There had been no mistaking the strain in his voice when he promised, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

After cleaning himself up sloppily with a tissue he curled up under his duvet, drifting into sleep whilst imagining a warm body pressing up against his side and a soft breath ghosting over his skin every time he breathed out himself.


	7. Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of stairs, floors and doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all those who appreciate the weekly updates: This wouldn't be possible without [Erasmus_Jones'](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Erasmus_Jones) quick and perfect beta reading. As a little thank you, you could have a look at her lovely stories. ;)

_~ Mycroft’s POV ~_

Mycroft looked down at the street, he thought himself safe behind the window of his study on the second floor. This was his habit, watching intently for the first sight of his Gregory coming home. As a black car pulled up in front of his door, a little smile appeared on his lips before the panic took hold of him again. At least for once Gregory had taken advantage of his long standing insistence to make use of the cars on his own.

The sight of Greg climbing out of the car calmed his nerves but it hit him even harder when a tiny figure in a purple coat and green boots exited after him. A long scarf in matching colours was wrapped around her neck and she smiled broadly, looking up in astonishment at Mycroft’s town house.

As the driver came around to help with the luggage, Greg waved him back politely, gesturing that he’d manage alone as he heaved a little suitcase and his own overnight bag out of the boot.

Sue hadn’t moved, she still stood gawking open mouthed at his house, but suddenly she grinned right at him and waved enthusiastically. Mycroft froze for a moment, not believing that he had actually been caught staring at them. He raised his hand and waved back awkwardly, whereupon Sue turned his head to say something to her father who was about to close the boot lid. He started grinning and looked right up to Mycroft like he knew the spot where he usually stood to spy out, replying what Mycroft lip-read as “Yeah, he does that.”

Blushing bright red, he stepped back from the window, standing there any longer would not promote a more favourable response so he tried to use the next few seconds to regain his composure and went downstairs to the front door on slightly wobbly knees. Taking one last breath, he took hold of the doorknob, turned it and was greeted with a very familiar looking smile. A smile that had soothed his nerves from the moment it had first been sent in his direction. A smile he was powerless to resist and could do nothing but return.  

He had seen pictures of Susannah Lestrade so he had been aware of the resemblance to her father, but seeing her now in person was something else entirely. She didn’t just looked like Greg; she moved like him, her lips curved in the exact same manner and her dark eyes held the same non-judgmental and open gleam as her fathers.

“Hi, I’m Sue!” A small hand stretched out in front of him and he took it into his, bowing down he placed a kiss on the back of her hand, and then looked up at her again, still bent over slightly, as he greeted her.

“Mycroft Holmes, it is my pleasure. I am delighted we meet at last, Susannah.”

“If you call me Susannah, I’m going to call you M, just so you know.”

Before Mycroft could tell her that only one person was allowed to shorten his name, said person stepped up beside her and ruffled her hair.

“I told you to be nice, you nasty little bug.”

“I am nice, papa, always.”

“Yeah, sure you are.”

They both giggled and Mycroft could only watch the pair in wonderment. But then Greg leaned over, obviously in hope of a welcome kiss and without thinking, Mycroft stepped back out of his reach. He watched his partner’s warm smile retreat, making way for confusion and disappointment.

Mycroft regretted it instantly but didn’t know how to act. Having never rejected Gregory he didn’t know how to make reparation for the obvious pain his actions had caused. He always put so much effort into making Greg happy, never denying him anything that he was out of his depth now. Besides, he’d never thought his own nerves would turn against him so cruelly, but the thought of sharing any kind of intimacy in front of the child was making him quite uncomfortable. Boldness has never been one of his traits, but Gregory was always bold enough for them both, surely he would understand and act now, wouldn’t he? But Greg looked just as lost as he felt himself and the knowledge that he had caused the sadness in his eyes made Mycroft sick, but he still didn’t know what to do to make them smile again.

But if one Lestrade can’t save a situation, evidently the other can. Sue crossed her arms and sighed theatrically.

“I’ve seen people kiss, you know. So please get yourselves together and say hello to each other properly so we can go inside, I’m freezing.”

To Mycroft’s enormous relief, Greg found his smile again and cocked his head, exposing his cheek but all he could do was place the most chaste and shyest kiss he had ever bestowed upon Gregory’s stubbled cheek.

“Well, you should give that another try later but since everybody seems to be happy now, in with you, love birds.” That earned Sue a light tap on the head from her grinning father who seemed to find the whole situation suddenly very amusing.

Mycroft should have expected it; the girl was just as observant as her father. He couldn’t say he felt at ease with her just yet but he was already very intrigued to get to know her. This was going to be interesting, though probably embarrassing also.

*

Once inside, Mycroft slipped easily into his role as host in which he could act with much more confidence. As he took their coats, he noticed that Greg still wore his work clothes. He knew Gregory’s preference to shower straight from work, a ritual to wash away the horrors of his day, cleansing them from his body and mind. So it was very likely that Mycroft would have to spend some time alone with Sue and he decided the sooner he moved things forward, the better.

“Gregory, I know you like to refresh yourself after work. Since you are familiar with the house, I’ll leave you to it and will show Susannah her room in the meantime.”

“Um, sure. But you don’t have to, I can show her around too. I really need a shower, though. Work was ghastly today.”

“We can manage, papa. Give me that.” Sue reached out for her suitcase and grinned up at Mycroft. “Let’s go.”

His offer to take hold of her luggage was declined in a very Lestradian manner and he knew better than to be insistent.

Leading the way, Mycroft climbed up the stairs to the second floor and before heading further up to the third, he looked around to see Greg disappearing into their bedroom, winking at him encouragingly.  As he reached the top of the stairs he turned to open the door to the guest room, letting Sue walk in first. She stopped at the threshold, her jaw dropped and she looked back at him, pointing into the room.

“That’s supposed to be my room?”

“It is indeed, yes. The other guest rooms are under the roof and not quite as comfortable as this one but if you don’t like it…”

Sue shrieked in excitement. “Like? I absolutely love it. It’s beautiful.”

Mycroft exhaled in relief. His other spare rooms, the former staff rooms to be precise, weren’t even fully furnished. Until recently, he had never been fond of having his house filled with guests.

Finally, she walked inside and looked around the room. The setting autumn sun tinted the white walled and furnished room into a warm colour and the crystal chandelier reflected sparkling dots all over the walls. Sue strolled towards the mantelpiece, letting her fingers brush over the glass and silver decorations. Walking over to the windows she looked down on the street below, her fingers played with the silk curtains as she smiled over to Mycroft.

“I think it’s the prettiest room I’ve ever been in.”

“I'm glad that you are so fond of it.”

“This is not an ordinary guest room. Someone lived here before?”

Mycroft was no longer surprised by the girl’s cleverness, he was happy she seemed so interested and proudly told her what she wanted to know.

“Indeed, it was my mother’s room before she married my father and moved to his estate in the country. She was born under this roof and this is one of the few rooms I haven’t changed since I inherited this house from my grandmother.”

He walked over to the second door in the room to show her the en-suite bathroom. Like the bedroom it was still arranged with 1920’s antique furniture and was mostly white, but one wall was painted in powder-blue, just like the tub. Sue spun around to have a look and admired the big tiffany mirror on the wall and the beautiful painted tiles.

“You have to show me the whole house, M! Please, I’m dying to see all the rooms.”

“If you wish, I would be delighted to. But must you really insist upon calling me M?”

“Yup!”

Her broad smile made him chuckle and after he offered her his arm, they walked out of the room together, both giggling.  As they walked down the hallway towards the music room, Mycroft had to admit to himself that only once he had been more proud to be accepted by another person. The person who would find himself wrapped up in a tight embrace as soon as they had a moment alone, to thank him for all the joy he had bought into his life.

*

After Mycroft had promised Sue twice that yes, after dinner they would come back so she could play something for them on the piano, they spent a long time in the library because the girl couldn’t decide which book to borrow first. As they finally emerged, she proudly and very carefully held an old edition of Jules Verne’s “Around the World in Eighty Days” in her hands.

“I… thanks M, I’ll take good care of it and bring it back as soon as I’m finished.”

“You do not need to hurry through it, please take your time. It was one of my favourites when I was your age.”

“Oh I can’t wait to read it! Let me just put it away somewhere safe and then you have to show me the other rooms.”

Full of energy she ran to her room and Mycroft, peeking around the corner, could see how cautiously she laid the book onto the bedside table.

“Lead on, Macduff,” She said when she came back, standing before him rocking, back and forth on her feet.

“After you, my Lady.” With a light bow he gestured down the stairs and followed her giggles. But as they reached the bottom of the stairs and his eyes fell upon the bedroom door, a lump was building in the back of his throat. He had been doing so well, but now his insecurities regarding dealing with intimate situations in front of her were breaking through again. He cleared his throat, hoping he wouldn’t sound too hoarse.

“This is…” he had to cough to buy himself a bit more time to think about the right term, “the master bedroom.” And with a wave of his hand he went strictly on to the next door, his study, and pushed it open.

When she didn’t follow he looked back and saw her standing in the hallway with a raised eyebrow, looking suspicious. But after a few seconds she came over to stick her head into the room. In contrast to the guest room upstairs, this room was very dark. The walls were panelled with heavy wood at the bottom and painted deep red above and it was dominated by a huge desk in the middle of the room.

“For a long time this room has been nothing more than my secure work place, but your father hinted multiple times that this house would lack of a place to, I quote  _‘to just crash on and watch some crap telly or footy’,_  Irearranged it to make place for this.”

Mycroft stepped in, the closed double wing door to the bedroom safely behind his back he gestured to the other, much smaller door in the corner of the room. “Do come along.”

Of course Sue’s reaction to the small home cinema room was very similar to her father’s.

“Is that…? Wow!” She let herself fall onto the huge sofa and turned her head around to look at Mycroft, who still stood in the door, with a distinctive look.

A smile tugged at the edges of his lips. “Yes, of course we are going to watch something here this weekend.”

With a satisfied grin she patted the seat beside her. “Would you, um, like to take a seat for a moment? I want to tell you something as long as papa is still occupied.”

Unsure of what exactly she meant to tell him, he walked around the sofa and sat down. Not knowing where to place his suddenly so sweaty hands, he placed them awkwardly in his lap.

“Mycroft, I know it’s not really my place to tell you what I’m going to, most adults don’t even take me seriously, so just listen and think about it, yes?”

He nodded and forced himself to look her in the eyes and adopt a calm looking posture which hopefully hid his emotional turmoil perfectly.

“You don’t even have to say anything, just listen. What you did earlier at the door, avoiding papa’s kiss I mean, please don’t do that again. I understand that it has to do with me so I promise to always give you time alone when I’m with you two but please, don’t reject him like that.”

She paused and Mycroft could see that there was much more than just a bit concern behind this request.

“May I ask why? You don’t have to tell me, of course. Regardless of your answer, I promise to do my best in the future to not let something like that happen again and I already planned to apologise to Gregory because of this incident.”

“Yes, I want you to know but don’t tell him I told you about it, he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. That was how he found out what ma did. When she started to refuse his kisses he knew because it was something she'd never done before. I’m sure he knows you were just uncomfortable, but it reminded him of it nevertheless.”

Mycroft wanted to say something, wanted to know more but she shushed him. “No, please. Let’s leave it at that, OK? There is nothing to talk about, I just wanted you to know.”

The sad look that had taken hold of her features vanished and the adventurous teenager from moments ago jumped from the sofa.

“One floor to go, come on!” She stormed out of the room and ran downstairs before Mycroft could fully process the repercussion of this new information about his Gregory.

 

\---

_You can imagine Sue’s style of clothing like Christina Ricci's in “[Penelope](http://qed221b.tumblr.com/post/59577963371)”._

_Edit: NEW FANART:  The amazing[qed221b](http://qed221b.tumblr.com) answered my request and drew my dear [Sue](http://qed221b.tumblr.com/post/59577963371)! Aw, isn't she perfect?  
_

__

_[Mycroft’s house](http://austenonly.files.wordpress.com/2010/09/town-house-2223-correction.jpg), Sue’s [bathroom](http://roomenvy.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/Soft-Blue-and-White-French-Style-Bathroom-Style-at-Home-Housetohome.jpg). Well it’s not quite like what I have in mind but those are the best pictures I found to show you._

_Is anyone interested in the plan of Mycroft's house? I made it for me to orientate myself, but if someone wants to see it, I  can put it up. :)_

_Edit: Since there is indeed interest in the plan,[here it is](http://my-citrus-pocket.tumblr.com/post/58586518624/mycrofts-town-house): [First Floor](http://media.tumblr.com/4dc35e85b2c1c37176badf70b1db371b/tumblr_inline_mrpz51eBWX1qz4rgp.jpg), [second floor,](http://media.tumblr.com/ab716b16e4420c1a340d5656afd539c1/tumblr_inline_mrs8wuiBU61qz4rgp.jpg) [third floor](http://media.tumblr.com/90b17a81f1a44b60f24c5ac565aeb9c1/tumblr_inline_mrpz5g4x861qz4rgp.jpg), [fourth floor](http://media.tumblr.com/7f30189f19582be4bf4c5bfaad66b096/tumblr_inline_mrpz5oFMKZ1qz4rgp.jpg)  
_

_I don't know anything about architecture or how to make such plans. I made this just for me so I always know how the characters get from A to B. ;)  
_


	8. Prickly Affairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of longing, belonging an facial hair.

_~ Greg’s POV ~_

Standing in front of the bedroom mirror, freshly showered and shaved, Greg couldn’t decide whether to leave the top buttons of his new shirt casually open or to button them up. Normally he wouldn’t have thought twice about it because he relished in the sneaky glide of his lover’s eyes drifting over the revealed skin and lingering there a little longer than appropriate. Today Greg didn’t want to make him feel even more uncomfortable. Mycroft had mentioned before that he would have problems indulging in intimacy whilst Sue was in the house, but that Mycroft would also be uncomfortable with any physical contact at all had initially been a blow. Now he’s had time to think about it, so long as he got to spend the time with Mycroft, he would do anything to make him comfortable.

Nevertheless, being rejected by the person you love is never easy, even if you know and understand the reason. It had felt horrible all those years ago when Iris had done it, because there had been no apparent reason for her actions until it had dawned on him. But this was different, Mycroft was just unfamiliar with the situation and under no circumstance did he want to put him in a similar situation again, it had hurt him just as much.

Greg soothed himself with the thought that he was going to spend the following nights in Mycroft’s arms and that was really the only thing that mattered. Since the first time they had shared a bed, he hadn’t been able to sleep well on his own. He always missed his partner’s presence, the arm across his waist that so often claimed him, pulling him close during the night and the warm chest, rising and falling calmly which he preferred as a pillow. Now he had three of those nights ahead of him, there was really nothing to complain about.

Just as his hand rose to close the last buttons the bedroom door opened and he found himself in a fierce embrace before he could say or do anything else. One arm around his neck and the other around his waist, Mycroft hugged him tightly. His face was buried in Greg’s shoulder as he inhaled deeply and let out a soft sigh afterwards. He hugged back, as strong as he could, knowing that Mycroft needed moments like this to put himself back together, peeling away all the bravado to reveal the real Mycroft once more. The person that had always thought he would never need someone to comfort him like this. Greg was immensely proud to be the one that this man had chosen to disabuse him of that notion.

Knowing Mycroft would need just a little bit more time Greg loosened the slicked back hair by stroking through the strands, making them curl again just because he could and it was far prettier this way. They had been so preoccupied with work lately, that they had barely seen each other at all and with every reunion Mycroft seemed to be more affected by their time apart.

As Greg pressed a soft kiss to his temple, another muffled sigh emerged from his shoulder, followed by the first words spoken since Mycroft had entered the room.

“I missed you, Gregory.”

“I know, love. It’s OK, I’ve always known.”

Yes, he had known but until now, he had never heard him say it.

“And I am sorry.”

“Shhh, you don’t have to be, everything’s fine.”

Greg moved them over to the bed to sit down, pressing Mycroft to his side who leaned heavily against him, one hand fisting his shirt front. Covering the hand on his chest with his own, Greg kissed the tousled auburn mess resting on his shoulder.

“Is it because of Sue?” He probably shouldn’t have left them alone so soon.

“No!” Mycroft suddenly let go of him, sat up straight and tried in vain to smooth his hair. “Let me assure you that your daughter behaved impeccably and we both enjoyed ourselves. I ascertained that she is quite fond of the house.”

“See? Told you. Bet you flaunted your possessions humbly as always.”

“But I neglected the one that is most precious to me. Forgive me?  It will not happen again.”

“I already said it’s OK. Actually, I’m the one who should be sorry, I shouldn’t have approached you like I did. You told me about your worries and I just didn’t think, couldn’t restrain myself because it’s been a few days, if you know what I mean.”

Greg took his hand, he needed something to squeeze and underline his words. “Look, we don’t have to do anything we don’t want to, right? I won’t touch you in front of her if that’s what  _you_  want. Because you feeling uncomfortable when I reach for you is the last thing  _I_  want.”

“And I don’t want you to feel rejected by my actions. You are much too understanding, my dear Gregory. It will only be a matter of time until I grow accustomed to this new situation. You know I have no problem showing my affection for you in public but this is a step in our relationship I have yet to master. Susannah was very kind to me and her company was delightful, surely I will make progress in this matter soon.”

“Just tell me when it feels right for you, yes?”

Mycroft didn’t say anything but moved in closer to place a chaste kiss on his lips, watching them captivated as he pulled back slightly before nudging his nose against his jaw.

“Why did you shave?” His breath was warm and Greg felt goose bumps rising on his neck.

“Um, because I wanted to look good for a nice dinner with my daughter and boyfriend?”

Mycroft placed little kisses along his smooth jaw line before he sat back, looking at him intently.

“But you already looked ravishing with a long day’s worth of stubble decorating your skin, my dear.”

“Well, but I thought…”

“No buts, Gregory.” His hand came up to cup his jaw, his thumb stroking over his bottom lip. And that sealed it; Greg was not able to deny this man anything, certainly not like this, sitting there all shy and beautiful but still demanding.

“Right, I won’t shave tomorrow. Happy now?”

“Not quite.” Oh this cheeky smile will be his death some day.

“OK OK. I won’t shave on Sunday either, but you’d better make it up to me, Mr. Holmes.”

“Oh I will, Detective Inspector. I will.”

“Nope, not what you are thinking, naughty boy.” Although Mycroft frowned he knew he would get that treat anyway so why not take advantage of his power?

“If you get me with a three days beard this weekend, I want you in a nicely trimmed full beard the next time.” How he loved to see this surprised look on his lover’s face, Greg thought and grinned smugly. “You can start to grow it whenever you want, it might take you awhile but hmm, imagine the things I would do to you…”

Weighing his possibilities, Mycroft fixed him with a stern look which Greg countered masterfully.

“Agreed. Nicely played, Gregory.”

“Haha, I honestly can’t wait. I always wondered how you would look with a beard, but it would probably look even better if you stopped tinting your hair a few shades darker.”

“No, anything but that!” Was that actual fear in his eyes now? He hadn’t thought that it was such a big deal but apparently it was.

“Sorry, it was just a suggestion. But please tell me why? You know I wouldn’t love you any less if you were bald or anything, it really doesn’t matter to me.”

“If you must know, I started dying my hair the day I left for University so it has been a while since I, or anybody else, has seen me with my natural hair colour.”

“But why?”

“Because I have never liked it and thought a darker shade would further suit the advancement of my career.”

“But now you are where you wanted to be, aren’t you? I don’t think anybody would lose their respect just because you changed your hair colour.”

“One never knows.”

“Well, you would probably look even more intimidating all ginger, hair and beard. And fucking sexy, too.”

“You truly believe that? Let me please think about this, Gregory. But I will consider it.”

“I really do believe that, you’d be showing a little bit more of yourself. It wouldn’t change anything at work, you are perfectly capable of hiding anything you want from anyone. Well anyone except me that is.”

“And your daughter.” A smile was creeping to the corners of Mycroft’s mouth and Greg couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad sign.

“Yeah, she is like that. Reads people in her own way, not like you though.”

“Yes, your Susannah is a very insightful young Lady, but what do you expect from a Detective Inspector’s daughter? Speaking of her, we should probably join her in the kitchen, she is already preparing dinner.”

Greg loved to cook with Sue, but right now he would have rather spend a few more minutes alone. He still wanted to talk to Mycroft about all those photos of him but figured it could wait a bit longer; they had discussed enough important matters for now.

“Well then, Mycroft. Roll your sleeves up and get ready to be ordered around. She is a much more rigorous chef than me.” Greg stood and gave his partner an encouraging look to follow him.

“Alright, but one last thing.” Mycroft stepped close, his fingers brushing Greg’s collar before they trailed down his chest to the last button Greg had managed to close before he came into the bedroom. Slowly, he closed two more, just leaving the very last open.

“Such a nice choice of colour, my dear.” He tried to smooth the crinkles his fist had left in the shirt front before taking Greg's hand and pulling him from the room.


	9. Out of the Mouths of Babes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of what it's like when your father keeps bringing home Holmes brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time to thank everybody for their lovely comments and kudos again, it's what keeps writers writing and artists art. Everyone is grateful knowing that you liked what they produced and their work is appreciated. :)

_~ Sue’s POV ~_

As she opened cupboard after cupboard making herself familiar with Mycroft’s kitchen, Sue quickly realised that there was everything you could ever need for cooking in the room. Most of the utensils were only barely used or not used at all and the fridge looked like someone had horded enough stuff for three Christmas dinners in a row. She gathered up the things she needed, scattered the ingredients over the worktop and began preparing the curry.

Whilst washing the vegetables her thoughts drifted upstairs to all those wonderful rooms full of history. They hadn’t been on the fourth floor because Mycroft said there was nothing to see; only sparsely furnished guestrooms and storage rooms, but she wanted to go there someday nevertheless. She had loved the whole house instantly and hoped she could spent more time here in the future, but it was lacking of very important things; personal stuff from her father. Besides his toothbrush and a few spare clothes she suspected were in _the master bedroom,_ his special curry mixture in the spice rack was the only personal item she had spotted and she was sure this wasn’t Mycroft’s doing.

Seriously, a man who builds a home cinema in the room beside his study just because his partner once said something that might indicate that he wanted something like that? A man who spied out of the second floor window every time his boyfriend arrives? A man who looked at his dearest so fondly as if he wanted to lay the world at his feet and was nearly scared to death as he realised he’d done something wrong? No, Mycroft was not a man who wouldn’t want to be reminded of his partner by random personal objects in the house. He was more the type of man who would happily make space in the library for his Gregory’s books and in his wardrobe for his ridiculous collection of football shirts.  

So why hadn’t papa moved in already? He always complained that they can’t see each other often and his own small flat wasn’t really a place to feel comfortable. Although this house wasn’t her father’s style, she knew there would be ways to make him feel at home here. Mycroft just being here was probably enough anyway. She would definitely bring the subject up this weekend, surely this was one of those things they both had already thought about but neither wanted to be the first to say it out loud.

Sue placed two cutting boards on the small, heavy wooden table that stood in the corner by the door to the garden. It was, with its three simple chairs, the only antique furniture in the otherwise modern kitchen and she was fascinated by all the lines and cuts on the surface, like every one of those held their own precious story. She only stopped tracing the centuries old marks with her fingertips as footsteps on the stairs dragged her out of her daydream.

Mycroft entered the kitchen first, looking a bit more casual with his rolled up shirt sleeves and slightly mussed hair. He hung the jacket of his dark grey tweed suit over the chair and she assumed that this, with his waistcoat still on, was probably the most casual he would get today. Her father followed him closely, wearing a ridiculously smug smile but also the new shirt she chose for him and didn’t she know it? He looked great in it, especially with those grey jeans.

“Ah, there you are, just in time!” She fetched the pineapple from the worktop and shoved it into her father’s hands. “You take care of this.”

Spinning around again, she took three sweet peppers to place them carefully onto the cutting board on the table and looked up at Mycroft. “Papa told me that you are very skilled in cutting vegetables. Would you like to dice those sweet peppers?”

“Yes, of course.” He sat down eagerly to begin his task right away but a harsh thud made him nearly jump out of the chair again and Sue also flinched. Her father had chopped off the top of the pineapple with more force than necessary and frowned petulantly.

“He gets asked nicely, that’s not fair at all.”

“Deal with it, papa.” Was all Sue said about that matter because she knew exactly how to handle her father’s tantrums; simply ignore them. But the wink she gave Mycroft was rewarded by a thankful smile.

She went over to the cooker to prepare the rice and an occasional look over her shoulder told her that both man weren’t paying as much attention to their task as they should. She would have said something if it wasn’t so terribly cute watching them stealing sneaky glances at the other, blushing when they were caught, then looking into each other’s eyes for awhile and forgetting everything else for that moment.

Yes, she had needed time to get over her parents’ divorce, but she couldn’t remember seeing her dad being so utterly happy for quite some time. He deserved every second of that happiness after what he had to go through and Sue wasn’t sure if she could say the same for her mother. She hadn’t known if she would be able to forgive her one day, but knowing that her father found someone who helped him forget about the pain made it much easier to try.

He had started to talk about Mycroft a year after the divorce, before that she had only known that he was Sherlock’s brother, and he had never said one nice word about his elder sibling in her presence. But hearing that the other Holmes brother suddenly took her father out for lunch or a football match had made her suspicious instantly. When he had been away with John he only mentioned it casually because that was what it was. A casual evening in a pub with John, like every other week. She was grateful that her father had found a good friend in John in such a difficult time, but she could tell it was something different with Mycroft. When papa talked about him, his whole posture changed; he stood taller, looked less tired and the smile returned to his eyes which had vanished entirely after he finally moved out of their house. But Sue never mentioned it, knowing one Holmes was enough to know that they aren’t easy to handle, and building any kind of relationship with them was hard work.

When her father brought Sherlock home for the first time 7 years ago, he had ignored her completely. It took month for him to even spare her a glance and even longer until he’d talked to her. But they found a way to communicate over the music and finally formed something like a sibling-like relationship, based on occasional mocking but also fundamental respect. Probably something he had lost with Mycroft long ago. Maybe this was something she could fix someday, she would definitely try and Sue Lestrade was a very patient girl.

 

 

 


	10. In the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of ignorance, suppression and long withheld declarations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like, listen to ["So in Love" from the Broadway musical Kiss me Kate](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EhhkIrg7I6A), for me it's a perfect Mystrade song and I love it dearly.
> 
> I had to clean up a few things in the last part, Black Leather meets Crimson Steel, because my headcanon about their past developed during writing. Please tell me if you ever find something that confuses you, this is my first multi chapter series and I'm still learning. ;) 
> 
> [Erasmus_Jones,](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Erasmus_Jones/pseuds/Erasmus_Jones) I'm running out of words to thank you for what you are doing here so let me just hug you today. :)

__

_~ Mycroft’s POV ~_

Lying awake at night but content with his Gregory in his arms, Mycroft thought back to the events of this strange Friday evening. He had learnt early enough in their relationship that participating in meal preparation was an enjoyable activity, but watching the two Lestrades as they pottered around his kitchen was simply hilarious. All the lovable bickering between them showed how well they knew each other and that cooking together was something they had enjoyed for a long time. Sue was very kind and never forgot to include him, which made him adore her even more. And how could he not? She was such a sophisticated and intelligent girl, who would have thought that they even had things in common and that siding against Gregory with a partner in crime would be so much fun?

Earlier in music room, he could tell from the way her fingers brushed the piano keys alone just how enamoured by the instrument she was. Mycroft had to admit he was impressed by her skill. Even if he didn’t recognise the songs she played, he took pleasure in the beautiful way she played them.

Despite Sue’s obvious interest, Mycroft hadn’t been prepared for her to want to know more about the contents of the music room. With so few people ever seeing the room, it was not often he got to tell the tales of the instruments it contained. Presented with the opportunity he told Sue everything that came to mind. His grandmother’s harp and grandfather’s piano, along with his memories of hearing them play as a child. The flute his mother had learned to play when she was young, and though it was a pity she no longer played, she still looked at the instrument with love when she visited. He explained that he understood her sadness as he had stopped playing the cello that stood nearby a long time ago. As he saw heat in Gregory’s eyes and amazement shining in Sue’s, he realised his mistake. It was only his eloquence that saved him from having to demonstrate his extremely neglected skill there and then. He was, however, forced to promise that after he had chance to care for the disused instrument and time to prepare a piece, he would indeed play for them. The looks Greg shot at him were positively indecent as he sat himself before the piano to make up for their disappointment. Mycroft decided Gregory would need to get some of that heat out of his system before he played for the father and daughter for the first time, accordingly he started to plan a little surprise for him.

Unconsciously Mycroft must have tightened his arms around his lover more forcefully because he stirred in his embrace and hugged back, raising his head to look at him in the dim light of their bedroom. Greg had conceded to wearing a t-shirt and boxers to bed though he usually preferred to sleep in the nude, but it made it only slightly easier to withstand the urge to just grab him and have his wicked way with him. But the idea of Sue sleeping upstairs was still disturbing and he really hoped to move past his reluctance soon.

Greg wiggled himself out of his arms and sat up to look down at him for a few moments before moving in to kiss Mycroft’s forehead. He tugged at his pyjama collar, pulling him over towards him until Mycroft rested his head against his chest.

“Come here My, yeah that’s right. Are you comfy?”

“Hmhmm” Mycroft murmured into the shirt and swung his leg over Greg to properly curl up against his side.

“Me too.” Gregory’s fingers played at the nape of his neck and Mycroft felt that there was something running around in his partner’s head.

“What are you thinking about, Gregory? Usually I am the one with the unquiet mind in the darkness.”

“It’s um, it’s nothing My. Nothing we can’t talk about another time.”

“Do you honestly think you will manage to sleep if you fail to tell me what is troubling you?”

“Probably not.” He chuckled and Mycroft enjoyed the deep rumble in his chest.

“Then I do not see why we shouldn’t take this opportunity to ease your mind.”

“Oh, but I do, because it’s a subject you would love to avoid until the end of days.”

“Let me decide about that, my dear.” He said boldly but felt his heart stuttering nervously nevertheless.

“If you insist.”

Gregory’s fingers brushed through his hair before his head was pressed gently down onto his chest, reassuring him that nothing was wrong. But Mycroft knew there was still something left unspoken between the two of them; he had been stupid to believe that his phone call yesterday might prevent a talk about that topic.

“It’s about the photos on your phone. Firstly: Don’t be embarrassed or anything, those are lovely pictures and I’m quite flattered actually. But I shouldn’t have looked in the first place, I only stumbled across them because it was early and you know my abilities with technology are sketchy at best. I was just wondering why some of them are so old and then I realised that we never talked about um… how long…”

“How long I have been in love with you? No, I've never told you.”

Of course the day when he finally had to speak about it was bound come sooner or later, but procrastinating any further wouldn’t be wise. Taking a deep breath Mycroft pushed himself up to lay his head beside Greg’s on the pillow, nudged his temple with his nose and whispered directly into Greg’s ear, as if fearful somebody else might hear what he had to say.

“I have loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you, very unceremoniously on a surveillance tape when you first collided with my brother.”

Greg had been holding his breath and now turned towards him, taking his face in his hands with a pained look on his face. He crushed their lips together in a desperate kiss, then pressed their foreheads together.

“No, please don’t tell me you’ve pined over me for so long. I don’t think I can even stand the thought of it. Why…”

Mycroft stopped him from talking himself into rage by pressing his fingertips against his lips.

“Before you decide if you can stand it, will you let me explain?”

When he didn’t release his lips, Greg kissed his hand in response, taking it away with his own to entwine their fingers between their bodies and although he squeezed them encouragingly, he still looked alarmed.

“At that time, I didn't recognise it for what it was because I had never felt anything similar before. I needed almost seven years to be certain, so stop feeling guilty for not seeing it. How could you be expected to know when I hid it so completely from myself? I told you that I've never searched for something like this, which is why I simply ignored it, pretended that it was only a physical attraction. I might have known nothing about love, but I knew what a man must be like to please me sexually. You were a happily married man in the beginning and not even _I_ am that selfish and reckless. So I only allowed myself to fantasise about you, thinking that my infatuation would pass. Of course that was not the case, instead it grew stronger. You decided to take care of Sherlock when he was at his weakest and steadfastly refused my aid. I saw that what you had to give was just what he needed, but it also meant our worlds would collide. It was not hard for me to keep my confusing and inappropriate thoughts hidden back then. I never, not once, thought about what it would be like to share my life with someone, it was simply not an option. And then your marriage began to crumble, you worked even more and my brother bought a certain army doctor home, whom you befriended instantly.  I found myself with more footage of you than I could watch and decided it was time to engage in this whole new scenario personally. I started to get involved and stopped watching from afar, which made me admire you even more. I’m sure you know how things changed as you finally stopped fighting for your marriage. Feelings that I had suppressed for so long surfaced because you were simply there, right in front of me, available. I was still far away from admitting that it was love, it took me two more years to act upon it, as you are well aware, and I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am that I was so ignorant.”

Gregory’s eyes were wide, he had listened with a strange expression which Mycroft could not quite categorise. There was still guilt, why? Greg had done nothing wrong; it was he alone that had never even admitted to himself that he had found the love of his life.

Greg freed his hand out of his grasp and cupped Mycroft’s cheek, his gaze softened as if he accepted that all of this had happened a long time ago and there was nothing that could ever change the past.

“Oh My, you are such a fool.” Now he giggled, which was probably a good sign, wasn’t it? “When you kidnapped me for our first meeting so long ago, I took you for an arrogant bastard. Manipulative, powerful and insultingly polite. It kind of destroys the image now, knowing what was on your mind.”

Now he had to giggle himself.

“I agree, thinking about being pushed back into the car and bent over the backseat by a certain striking Detective Inspector does not fortify the authority I thought I was emitting. But to be honest, it was never like that. I only indulged in such fantasies when I was alone, never when you were present. The pictures you found were always used for another reason altogether. Well, at least in the beginning.”

“Yeah, you can’t whitewash over the suggestive ones, naughty boy.” Shuffling impossibly closer, Greg kissed his nose and they both relaxed into the arms of the other. “Want to tell me about the others?”

Mycroft Holmes had many secrets but this one was probably the most delicate one, but there was no reason in hiding that any longer.

“For me, those are snapshots to remind me what I'm fighting for. I tend to forget the reason I committed most of my life getting such a powerful position. I find myself at a loss sometimes, not knowing why I even try because humanity often seems not worth the effort. Sherlock was my first incentive. I wanted to make the world a safer place for him, but I obviously failed because he threw his life away so carelessly until I could not help him any longer. Then you stepped in and showed me that there is always a way out if you just believe. That is what you did, you believed in him at a time I could not. You helped me to find my will to believe again and I started collecting moments of your life so that I will always be remembered of that fact.”

Greg had gone very silent, barely breathed and finally spoke, his voice low and heavy with emotion. 

“Mycroft Holmes, you are the most caring person on this planet, don’t you ever question that. I should have seen it earlier but you didn’t let me, you hid from me. But not anymore. From now on it is _our_ life and I will be there for you every single day of it to remind you that it’s always worth fighting for love. And you have so much of it to give, what did you do to yourself that you thought you could live without? It hurts, knowing that you were there all the time. That you found me long ago but stayed in the shadows, watching from afar. How my happy life turned into hell before you finally had the guts to come to me. I don’t know if you are aware of it, but you helped me too. I thought I could never trust someone like this again, but you proved me wrong. I love you, My. You don’t need a picture to remind you of it, you can feel it right here.”

Placing his right hand above Mycroft’s fast beating heart, Greg leant in to kiss him thoroughly, then buried his face into his shoulder, sighing in relief as Mycroft tightened his arms around him and spoke softly into his hair.

“I feel it right there.” Mycroft laid his hand over Gregory’s and pressed it forcefully against his own chest so he could feel how strong it was beating for him, only for him. “I always have and always will. I have felt it since I first saw you smiling at my brother and I will still feel it, even when it stops beating.”


	11. Solved and Unsolved Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of noises and how to keep quiet - or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who helps me keep writing by leaving kudos and taking time to leave a comment. I couldn't do this without all your encouragement.  
> And of course without Erasmus_Jones' commitment, this story wouldn't be what it is now.

__

 

_~ Greg’s POV ~_

Greg woke almost in the same position that he remembered falling asleep in; his chest pressed against Mycroft’s, all limbs entangled and their noses softly brushing against each other. Before he opened his eyes he took the time to enjoy their intimate proximity. He had promised he would restrain himself, but if he was going to keep it he’d have to move rather quickly. He was only a man after all and waking up wrapped around the tantalising beauty in front of him meant that it was not a test he’d pass easily. Knowing the effect a dishevelled and sleepy Mycroft had on him, with bed hair and pillow creases on his face, he decided not to look too closely and make his way into the bathroom as quickly as possible. But even with closed eyes his body was apparently against this plan, demonstrating its veto of leaving the bed with a rather healthy and impressive morning erection that strained his boxers.

He finally opened his eyes to risk a look at his lover’s sleeping form and knowing full well it would make the shower all the more debauched, but that was not what he saw. Mycroft was already awake, looking back at him with pleading eyes. That wasn’t going to help getting his thoughts on a safer track. They just stared at each other for a few moments, no word was spoken and Greg could see how torn Mycroft was. Lust and confusion were fighting and it didn’t seem as if either was going to be victorious any time soon. He had probably lain like this for quite some time now, weighting the possibilities but coming to no logical conclusion.

Greg couldn’t fight the growing tension that lay between them any longer; he’d keep his promise if it killed him. No sex with Sue in the house? He could do it! He could and now was the time to put the plan into action and leave the bed before it was too late. After nudging their noses softly he tried to wiggle himself out of the warm cocoon under the duvet but Mycroft clung to him desperately, not letting go of him.

“My, I have to get up now or I won’t be able to keep my promise. Not with you looking at me like this.”

Mycroft’s only response was to push his hips slightly forward and knowing that his partner was in a very similar physical state didn’t help at all. It was simply not fair; he hadn’t thought that Mycroft would make it deliberately more troublesome for him. It had been hard enough last night, the thought of Mycroft playing the cello for him was alone enough to have him wanting to get his hands all over that perfect skin and that was just a fantasy. There would be fireworks and angels singing when he actually did play for him, he was sure of it.

But the topics of their evening conversation had quickly turned serious and all his randy thoughts had been pushed away, leaving Greg only wanting to hold Mycroft as close as possible and never let him go again. Although he had suspected he might receive an explanation like that, to hear it spoken aloud in Mycroft’s own words had broken something deep inside of him. If he had been aware of it or not didn’t really matter, to live with the knowledge that Mycroft had loved him right from the very start had made him feel guilty for not seeing it, for leaving him alone all this time. But there was nothing he could do about it now, he could only swear to himself that he’d spend the rest of his life making sure this remarkable man knew just how much he was treasured and loved. But taking advantage of the situation right now would be quite the opposite of that very sentiment and not at all an option.

“Seriously, love. You have to let me go now. I’m going to have a quick shower and make us some nice breakfast, yeah?”

Mycroft neither moved nor said anything and his arms remained wrapped around Greg tightly. Like he couldn’t bring himself to ask for what he really wanted, the fear of being caught or even heard was written all over his face and it over shadowed the desire that bloomed behind it.

“You have to tell me what you want, My. You’re not making it very easy for me right now, you know? Speak to me please. I won’t take things further until you tell me that it’s OK.”

It seemed like he finally got through the fog that must be filling Mycroft’s mind, because now he pressed his body against Greg’s and whispered, barely audible.

“I need you, Gregory. But I find myself at a loss…”

“It’s alright, My. I need you too, but it’s important that you’re sure, we don’t have to do anything if it makes you feel awkward. What do you need me to do?”

“Touch me, I need you to touch me. I am aware of what I asked of you. I could not stand the thought of us being intimate while someone else is in the house, but now it is the prospect of not being touched by you until we are alone again that is unbearable.”

The amount of insecurity this man was capable of shocked him every time. Greg had sincerely hoped that it would get better over time but at the moment it was only getting worse. Playing it down was always a good option, there was no need for more drama.

“In other words: You still feel awkward but you are too horny to let this opportunity pass. Well, you know she won’t come in here and it’ll be impossible for her to hear us if we keep it quiet, right?”

Greg knew this for sure because he couldn’t even hear Mycroft play the piano upstairs when he was down here. Also, it was very unlikely that Sue would be up anytime soon, she’s not an early bird and enjoys sleeping in on weekends.

“Right… But I am not sure if I will be able to suppress my sounds. You’ve taught me not to hold them back too well and you know what you do to me, Gregory.”

There were a few things Gregory Lestrade was unable to resist and a shy Mycroft with blushed cheeks was definitely in the top ten.

“Let’s see what I can do about it, then. Just lie down and let me do all the work, you concentrate on being as silent as you want to be.”

Putting a hand on his chest, Greg pushed gently and guided Mycroft to lie on his back.  Straddling his waist, he kissed Mycroft deeply before helping him out of his pyjamas and pulling off his own shirt and boxers. When he leant down again, brushing his lips over soft ginger chest hair, their cocks rubbed against each other and Mycroft couldn’t hold back a loud moan. Arching his back he reared up and tried to push Greg away, but Greg didn’t let him pull away, he pinned him into the mattress instead and waited until he calmed down.

Greg still sat on top of him, one hand was pressed against Mycroft’s chest and the other pinned his hands into the pillow. Looking down at him, he thought back to the beginning of their relationship. Mycroft had been afraid to act upon his desires on several occasions, tried to hold back those beautiful noises sometimes because he was embarrassed to sound so vulnerable. He just wasn’t used to having sex with a partner who actually cared for him. It took some time to teach him that it was different now, that he could be as loud as he wanted to be and that there was nothing wrong when he lost control because Greg was there to take care of him. And this, although it was not easy to see him so lost, was a breakthrough. Mycroft wanted to be quiet, but he couldn’t and despite the situation, Greg was quite happy with this result.

“Shhhh, it’s alright, My. We worked hard on the  _don’t-hold-back_  issue and see how well it works now? I’m so proud of you. Please believe me, Sue always has her Ipod thing running all night, she really won’t hear you and will be fast asleep for another few hours. Just close your eyes and let me help you, love.”

Reluctantly Mycroft did was he was told, Greg released him and as he slowly lowered himself to lie down on him, he noticed there was still a very prominent erection poking into his hip and that his partner’s distress dissolved into an expectant shiver. Greg knew how to handle him like this, he had dealt with a lost and broken Mycroft many times before and he will always succeed in putting him back together. He ran his fingers through his soft hair as the man below him let out a weak sigh.

“Gregory…”

Moving in to kiss his name from his lover’s lips, he whispered against them. 

“Everything’s fine My, I’m here and I’m going to be so gentle. You know how gentle I can be with you, don’t you? It’ll be slow and loving, the smooth skin of you back against my chest and I will hold you close the whole time. Do you want that, my love? Do you want me to take care of you?”

Mycroft’s long arms wrapped around him, he was already lost in the fantasy and kissed his way along Greg’s full lower lip, speaking between kisses.

“Yes, a thousand times yes. I want you, my dear. You know how much I always want you.”

After kissing back in relief, Greg climbed down from him and rolled Mycroft gently onto his side. Before he lined himself up behind him, he fetched the lube from the top drawer of the nightstand to deposit it nearby.

Greg pressed his body flush against Mycroft’s backside, trailing his fingers over the alabaster soft skin of his hips and down his thigh, brushing the long scar on its back and making Mycroft shiver against him. Greg hooked his hand under his knee, shifted slightly and lay back, taking Mycroft with him who was now sprawled half on top of him, his legs spread wide. Greg’s cock nestled in the gap between his lover’s thighs, the head nudging at his perineum and he started to rock them slowly whilst his other hand came around to play lazily with his nipples. He attached his lips to Mycroft's shoulder and nibbled at the beautiful freckles that were scattered there and felt his way up his inner thigh with feather light touches, until his hand reached his balls. Another moan escaped Mycroft as Greg fondled them softly, but this time he relaxed into the body behind him and Greg continued his ministrations warily. Only with his fingertips he explored every inch of his lover he could reach from his position, trailing them up and down Mycroft’s eagerly twitching cock until he was panting in his arms and it was obvious that he was aching for more.

Greg decided that it was enough teasing now, Mycroft had not even tried to touch himself and should be rewarded for being so patient. Greg took immense pleasure in the needy whimper that emerged from Mycroft as he took one hand away from him to reach for the lube. Hugging him close with the other one, he spoke into his neck.

“Just a moment My, I’m not going anywhere.”

He popped the lube bottle open with his thumb, squeezed some onto his palm and warmed it up before he began to spread it between Mycroft’s thighs, who growled at the slippery contact and tried desperately to stifle his sounds by pressing his face into the pillow. As if it was any easier for Greg; with everything slicked up nicely, his cock glide smoothly between those firm cheeks, teasing the tight entrance now and then and nudging the meanwhile taunt balls on its way. With his nose nuzzling at the nape of Mycroft’s neck he inhaled his sweet scent and rolled them a bit forward so they lay on their sides again.

Greg winced as Mycroft pressed his legs together and took hold of his hip so he could push more forcefully into the tight space. He had to bite his lip hard to distract himself from the wet sensation because he didn’t want to come too fast; this was about Mycroft after all. But he couldn’t last much longer with this beautiful creature before him coming to pieces and raised his head to Mycroft’s ear.

“Are you ready, My? Do you want to come?”

“Oh please, please yes,”  Mycroft groaned and his hand reached back to grasp Greg’s arse, pushing back to press them together more firmly and increasing the pressure of his thighs.

Greg’s still lubed hand found Mycroft’s cock, his fingers curled carefully around him before he began to stoke with matching thrusts, his thumb flickering over the slick head.

Mycroft was incredibly close within minutes, but it seemed that he couldn’t let go. He shivered violently in Greg’s arms, who was thankful for the strong grip on his bum because the pain was much needed for him to focus on, otherwise he would have come already.

“Gregory… I can’t! Help me, do something…”

It wasn’t easy to react quickly in his current state, but Greg’s free hand came up and covered Mycroft’s mouth carefully, it wouldn’t really stifle his moans but he hoped it would be enough reassurance for the moment. His palm just pressed very lightly against his lips, Mycroft could easily draw in his heaving breaths but it appeared to be working.

“It’s alright, My. Trust me and let go.”

Along with more soothing words, he rocked and stroked him gently in a steady rhythm until Mycroft’s body stilled entirely before one last moan gushed out against Greg’s palm, leaving the other, which guided him through his orgasm, covered with his hot semen.

Unburdened of his need to make Mycroft come first, he reached further down where the head of his cock appeared with every thrust between his lover’s legs. It was the feel of the still warm come on his oversensitive glans and Mycroft starting to lick the fingers that had tamed his noises that pushed him trembling over the edge. Greg stuttered syllables of Mycroft’s name into his shoulder, his release dribbled slowly down his lover’s thighs and onto the duvet as he enjoyed how the force of his climax slowly ebbed away, leaving him deeply satisfied.

Stilling in his movements and throwing one leg over Mycroft’s, Greg finally released his mouth to press the hand against his chest once again, holding him close as promised. He dropped kisses on every freckle he could reach, wanted to reach them all which was impossible so he just hugged him even closer.

He knew Mycroft would want to apologise for his little breakdown as soon as he got his breath back but he didn’t want to hear it. All he wanted was to take care of him as long as he lived, it didn’t matter to him that Mycroft was always so out of his depth when it came down to relationship matters. Greg would patiently do all the hard work for the rest of his life if he only knew Mycroft would be in his arms at the end of the day, which was actually a problem because he wasn’t most of the time. But that was an issue he probably wouldn’t solve today.


	12. A Perfect Saturday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of decisions and surprises on a perfect morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers, I'm going to be on holiday for the next two weeks and I'm very sorry that you will have to wait so long for the next update. If you haven't already, subscribe to this series and you will get a notification when chapter 13 is up. See you then!

_~ Mycroft’s POV ~_

__

It was one of those moments in which Mycroft couldn’t believe his luck. Gregory had once more worked his magic, retrieving him from the dark corner of his mind where he had been trapped. Now he was held close, surrounded by strong arms, stubble rasping deliciously between his shoulder blades and he could honestly say that he felt completely and utterly happy.

Gregory knew him like no one else and never judged him. It didn’t matter if he was just in a whiney mood, acting overly dramatic or if he was truly feeling as lost as he had earlier; Greg always took him seriously and made it better, whatever it was. However, Mycroft always had problems expressing his gratitude adequately. Apologising never worked well because the reply, that there was nothing to apologise for, began to increase in annoyance. Saying _“Thank you”_ was countered by a humble “ _That’s what I’m here for and should go without saying_.” But Mycroft would never take his Gregory for granted, not for one second and he would continue to do everything within his power to ensure his happiness.  

In this instance Mycroft decided that actions spoke louder than words and took hold of the hand that rested on his chest, raising it to his lips to kiss it softly. It must have been the right choice because the kiss was reciprocated with a matching gesture pressed to the nape of his neck, then with a relieved sigh, Greg snuggled even closer.

Feeling absolutely content, Mycroft would happily lie here forever were it not for the sticky mess between his legs and the secret plans he had made for today. Only getting up and into the shower would serve both problems and so he began to wiggle out of the embrace gradually but stopped for a kiss before he made his way into the bathroom.

Just as the water reached the perfect temperature to step under the spray, Greg opened the shower door and joined him.

“I can’t let you clean up all the mess I’ve made all on your own, can I?”

“How very diligent of you my dear, your help will be very much appreciated.”  

His lover’s hands, slick with shower gel, were soon stroking up and down his sides before focussing on the parts that needed gentle cleaning to wash away the evidence of their morning activity.

There was no heated tension between them now. With their needs and desires already satisfied, both men just enjoyed the intimacy of their wet, naked bodies sliding slowly against each other. The knowledge that two days of the weekend were still ahead of them, made their long and intensive shower even more pleasurable.

*

“No!”

“What is the matter, Gregory?”

Mycroft turned from where he stood in front of his huge wardrobe in the dressing room, but Greg had already hooked his fingers into the waistband of his black silk boxers and dragged him back into the bedroom.

“You haven’t worn a suit to breakfast after a lie in since… well I can only remember one time, so you won’t start that again now because I want this homey and comfy morning to continue just a bit longer.”

“But…”

That was all he could say before his pyjamas were thrown at him and his burgundy dressing gown landed in his face. When he freed himself, he saw Greg tightening his purple flannel gown above his t-shirt and boxers, moving for the door bare footed. With a sigh, Mycroft dressed quickly and put on his slippers. Ensuring Gregory’s happiness included conceding to attending breakfast in his dressing gown and Mycroft agreed that it was much more comfortable. Besides, the resultant view was greatly appreciated due to their usual habit of wearing nothing beneath them. He had just thought that it was inappropriate to wander around in ones nightwear with a guest in the house. Mycroft had however learnt to follow Gregory’s lead in these matters as he was always right.

Grabbing his phone from the nightstand he quickly checked his messages on his way to the kitchen, letting it slip into his pocket as he entered the room where Greg was already busy making tea.

They had their routine by now and so Mycroft started to set the small kitchen table, only that this time there were three dishes. Smiling approvingly at his work, he sat down to watch Gregory preparing eggs with a carefree swing in his moves. They hadn’t had time to catch up yet on how the other’s week had been so they chatted as Greg cooked. As always, Mycroft regretted that he couldn’t share all the details of his work with Gregory, but he immensely enjoyed the intriguing way his partner told him about the cases he'd worked on recently.

As the door swung open and a sleepy, but completely unselfconscious Sue entered the room with a cheery “Good day to you, sirs!” Mycroft could honestly say that he felt nothing but at ease with the situation. He had expected that an intrusion like this would annoy him, would make him feel uneasy, but it didn’t. And how could it, with Sue dressed in a ridiculous TARDIS dressing gown that only one man could have brought her, her hair standing up in all directions and a welcoming smile on her lips?

“Mornin’, Sugarbug. Sit down, breakfast is almost ready.”

After greeting his daughter, Greg returned his attention towards the eggs, scrambling them in the pan.

Sue sat down at the head of the tiny table besides Mycroft and yawned contently.

“I hope you enjoyed a good night’s sleep under this roof, Susannah?”

“You can be damn sure of that M, the bed is so comfy that it would have been a shame to leave it earlier. Oh I just love that room, can that be my room forever please?”

Mycroft chuckled as she sat on her hands, fidgeting slightly, awaiting his answer with pleading eyes.

“Yes, of course. I cannot imagine having a guest more dignified than you, Miss Lestrade, to take care of this precious room.”

“Oh thanks!”

Sue launched herself at him over the corner of the table, flung her arms around his neck and hugged him close. Mycroft was taken aback by her enthusiastic approach but when he looked over to Greg in search for help, his partner’s encouraging nod made him pat her back carefully. Obviously that had been enough because she was still grinning stupidly as she sat back on her chair.

“But are you sure? I mean you said it was the only nice guest room.”

“Yes, I am sure. Guests are a rarity in my home, should the need arise in the future, I shall arrange the preparation of one of the currently empty rooms on the fourth floor which are unused anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because this house is far too big for me alone.”

“You are not alone anymore, M.”

Slowly, realisation dawned on him. She was right. He wasn’t alone anymore and wasn’t that wonderful? His eyes darted over to Greg, who looked at them fondly, and then back to Sue.

“No, I suppose I am not.”

“I don’t get why papa hasn’t moved in already. I really don’t get it at all.”

The meaningful tension in the room rose even higher, nobody spoke and Sue’s smug grin was almost audible in the silent kitchen, with the sizzling of the eggs in the pan only highlighting the lack conversation.

It was obvious that she had said that deliberately to test their reactions, but Mycroft was too astounded by this turn of their conversation that he had to look helplessly at Gregory again. But that was no help at all. Equally bewildered he stood there, spatula in hand and staring at Sue who turned towards him when no one dared to speak before she looked back at Mycroft.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about that option. You know how often _he,"_ she pointed at her father without looking at him, "whines and mopes around because you don’t see each other as often as he wishes? Getting rid of the drive between your flats would be a start, you know?”

Shaking her head, she lowered it onto the table until it rested there.

“I like that table, I really do, but I think I just grab a toast and a cup of tea and eat it in my lovely room.”

She stood and did just that, four eyes followed her every move until she pushed the door open with her shoulder, accidentally dripping tea on the wooden floorboards. Because nobody could care less in this situation, those three tiny drops were absorbed by the old wood and remained forever visible on the doorstep.

Mycroft recovered first which surprised even him.

“Do you want that, Gregory?”

“Um, I mean, yeah. She’s right, isn’t she?”

“This is about you, Gregory. Do _you_ want to move in with me?”

Greg threw the spatula onto the counter and came over, Mycroft uncrossed his legs and he stepped into the place in between. Cupping his jaw, he looked in his eyes and spoke in a serious tone.

“Yes, My. I want that very much. I would love to live here with you.”

The warm feeling that flooded Mycroft was overwhelming; he circled his arms around Greg’s waist and buried his face in the soft fabric of his dressing gown, not able to put his feeling into words. On his quest to do everything in his power to make this man happy, letting him share his life on an even deeper level was something he had dreamed of every night they were apart.

And when he spoke of everything, he meant it. If sometime in the future it was his leaving Gregory that would guarantee his happiness, Mycroft would wrench his heart from his chest and walk away. He would endure all agonies in order to spare Gregory even the smallest hint of unhappiness. Mycroft had toyed with the thought when he was alone and depressed, imagining how hard it must be for Greg when he was out of town for weeks and only a bare minimum of contact was possible. He knew how it pained him, being the one being left alone must be even worse. But every time when they reunited, the bright, sparkling light in his eyes told Mycroft that it was worth the pain. So if moving in was what Gregory wanted, than he would gladly send people to his flat this minute to retrieve all his belongings immediately. Letting go of Gregory’s waist after one last, tight squeeze, he took out his phone and began typing swiftly.

“If you’re doing what I think you are, stop it right now, Mycroft Holmes!”

“And that would be?” He held his phone out of reach as Greg leant over in a failed attempt to snatch it out of his hand.

“I know you’re sending someone to collect my things, Mycroft. I know you well enough and something like that is just not going to happen. I’m quite capable of doing it myself, thank you.”

Huffing he sat down on the chair Sue vacated, arms crossed in front of his chest and frowning but he couldn’t quite suppress his happiness.

“Then tell me, how would waiting months until you finally find the time to pack everything improve the situation?”

Just then Sue reappeared, wearing a woollen yellow dress with green tights and looking rather pleased with herself.

“Oh no, why are you sulking papa? Don’t ruin this perfect morning.”

Greg just snorted so Mycroft took his chance to answer.

“Your father, Susannah, doesn’t want me to arrange for his belongings to be brought here instantly. He would rather spend his limited free time packing than with us.”

“He’s stupidly stubborn sometimes, isn’t he?” Sue crooked her head and looked disapprovingly at her father, who was still slumped in the chair, looking from one to the other with growing amusement.

“Yes, he can be. But I admit to find him quite endearing in his current state. All grumpy and trying to look angry although he cannot wait to move in as quickly as possible, but just doesn’t want to admit that accepting my help would be wise.”

“Aw, you’re right, he’s so cute.”

As Mycroft and Sue broke into a fit of giggles, Greg grunted.

“Ahhh alright. You two are a horribly good team, you know that?”

“Apparently.” Mycroft grinned back victoriously at Sue and leant back in his chair, enjoying their triumph.

“Holmes’ and Lestrade’s always are.” Sue added proudly.

“But don’t forget the Watson’s.” Greg added and reached quickly for Mycroft’s phone that now lay unprotected on the table.

“Gregory!” In fear his affirmation had only been a bluff, Mycroft jumped after his mobile but this time Greg was quicker.

“Calm down My, I’m just asking John if he can give me a hand with the unpacking tomorrow.” The wink he shot at him over the phone said everything. There was that sparkle in his eyes again, that gleam that Mycroft wanted to memorise forever but every time he saw it, it was brighter than he remembered.

They finished their breakfast in peace and John and Sherlock accepted coming over for lunch tomorrow which made Sue jump up and down in joy. Mycroft had heard his brother talk fondly of her on occasion. The Lestrade’s had welcomed Sherlock into their family when he needed one more than ever and Mycroft had always been grateful.

When everyone was satisfied, Mycroft revealed that he had planned an outdoor activity for them today, but wouldn’t reveal more until they reached their destination. To his relief, Greg and Sue cheered in amazement and couldn’t wait to find out. After they all got dressed for the weather that was unfortunately much colder and wetter than Mycroft had wished for, Greg hesitated when walking out the door after Sue as the black car pulled up in front of the house.

“My? Um… before we drive to wherever we’re going, erm… can we just stop by my flat so I can grab... well a couple of things?”

“There is no need, my dear. The team I send will manage the moving of your belongings, you do not need to worry.”

“But I do worry about… _that_. So don’t ask any questions, just let me grab them and then we are free to go.”

“Well, if you insist. But I really don’t understand…”

“Oh, you will…”

And he did understand, only thirty minutes later.

*

As the car held in front of the flat Greg had, with a finger pointed at them, ordered Sue to stay in the car and Mycroft to accompany him. Mycroft hadn’t visited him often here, most of the time they met somewhere else or stayed over at his town or country house.

The flat was small and didn’t contain much furniture and Greg had already said on the drive that from them, he only wanted his old, outworn but extremely comfy sofa. The only fully equipped room was the kitchen, small as it was, it contained everything you need to make a nice meal. But he always found the living room endearingly cosy. The old record player stood on a huge pile of records, accompanied by loud speakers almost as high and probably just as old. The sofa from Greg’s student years on one side, the telly opposite and all his DVD’s and CD’s stood on the floor, lined up against the walls. There was no rack or closet, they just stood there, piled on top of each other looking like little skyscrapers.

Greg walked straight towards the bedroom after grabbing a linen bag from the dresser in the hallway that he shoved against Mycroft’s chest.

“Here, hold this.”

Following him into the bedroom he opened the bag and waited slightly confused. Even now he had no idea what Gregory wanted to remove from the flat so badly before the movers arrived.

He watched as he knelt down to open the lowest drawer from his night stand and rummaged around, waving him closer. Standing right behind him now, his eyes widened as Greg started to fill the bag with a couple of porn DVD’s and various sex toys. There were two differently shaped dildos, various cock rings, a prostate massager, leather cuffs and whatnot. He must have stared open mouthed into the bag because as Greg looked up at him, he chuckled bemused.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Mycroft cleared his throat awkwardly and feared he might have turned into an alarming shade of pink. “I… I just didn’t know you had those things.”

“Oh My, now you are the cute one. Most of _those things_ I just came by over the years but I’m sure you agree that a man has to keep his secrets from a mysterious moving team. And My, honestly, what do you think I did in all those years since my ex wife stopped touching me? And most importantly, what do you think I do when you are away for weeks?”

“Apparently you are not as sexual frustrated as I am when we are apart.”

“Does that mean you have never used any toys?”

“I have never used any toys, nor allowed their use, _on_ _me_ , no.”

“Then I guess I have something to show you some day.”

On weak knees he made his way back to the car, hiding the bag in the backmost corner of the booth and hoping he was able to will away his inappropriate thoughts on their one and a half hour drive.

 

\---

I saw this [TARDIS dressing gown](http://www.popcultcha.com.au/media/catalog/product/imported_older/GVY90469-Doctor-Who-Tardis-Towelling-Bathrobe-Blue-A_3.png) and immediately knew Sue would want to have one too!


	13. River Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of boats, water and the weather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that you had to wait so long for an update! I managed to catch a cold after my holiday and writing with a runny nose isn't fun I can tell you... I should be able to return to weekly updates shortly, my dear readers. :)

__

_~ Greg’s POV ~_

This needed documenting, Greg was itching to get a photograph of this, really no one would believe this had actually happened, unless he had photographic evidence to support his wild claims. He had a hard time believing it himself and just openly stared at Mycroft, who stood at the end of the small, narrow boat, happily sliding a long pole repeatedly into the water to push them leisurely down the river.

The sight was almost enough to distract him from the fact that he’d agreed to move in with Mycroft.  Well, more like _was_ being moved in at the moment without being present. Greg had no idea if he’d made the right decision, he really needed to speak to John and get it all off his chest. There were things in life you had to talk through with your best friend, things you just can’t figure out on your own. Of course he wanted to move in with Mycroft, that wasn’t the problem. He had been honest when he said yes but he hadn’t really thought about what it would mean for his everyday life. Spending the evenings alone in a small flat was one thing, but being the only person in that huge house? He couldn’t really imagine inviting his football mates over _there_ to watch a match and have a beer. Hell, he didn’t even know what he’d do the first time he stumbled across the housekeeper or whatever other staff Mycroft had in the house. How could he feel relaxed wandering around half dressed if he was afraid of traumatising some poor old woman? Greg had never met any of them when he just stayed overnight but he knew they existed. He refused to think about it anymore right now, he just wanted to enjoy the day and ignore the issue until he managed to have a word with John tomorrow. John would know, besides Mummy Holmes, he was the only living person on this earth who knew what it was actually like living with one of them.

Mycroft bringing them to such a fantastic place as this had never crossed Greg’s mind. Added on top of that the sight of Mycroft standing so elegantly at the rear of the boat, navigating the waterway, it was beyond his imagination. The longer he watched him, Greg had to admit that the picture fitted perfectly. He could see Mycroft doing this during his time at uni, an activity where he could let his thoughts wander, inspired by the beautiful landscape that was passing by. Not that Greg was paying much attention to said landscape at the moment. With Sue sprawled over the bench at the other end of the boat, dangling her hands into the water and fishing golden leaves out of it, Greg had a perfect view of their distinguished captain from the bench in the middle. The way Mycroft moved the punt gave away that he had a lot of practice but only Greg could see the hesitation that was peeking through, he probably hadn’t done this for quite some time. But after a good fifteen minutes Mycroft found his rhythm again and looked totally at ease, handling the pole expertly with his leather clad hands. Now that was an image to blow away the rest of his concerns about the imminent move-in and he finally allowed himself to fully enjoy their trip.

The weather in London hadn’t been nice, which would explain Mycroft’s concern before they left the town but once they were out in the country, the sky brightened up and now the sun was peeking through sometimes. Greg watched in delight as his lover’s cheeks turned pink due to the warmth and the exercise, fine droplets of sweat beaded on his forehead and did he just take off his overcoat? His graceful moves were even more distracting now that he only wore his olive tweed suit. Greg could see how the waistcoat strained over his chest when the pole hit the river bed and Mycroft pushed the boat forward with perfectly measured force.

Suddenly he heard the splashing of water behind him and turned around to tell Sue to watch out, but Mycroft was faster.

“Be careful, Susannah. It wouldn’t be the first time that one of my passengers fell into the Cam because they got too excited.”

“Yeah, no worries, papa taught me how to swim when I was 5 so I won’t drown. Oh look, there are fish too!”

“Our father thought of it as a waste of time. Sherlock was very lucky that I decided to teach myself so I could rescue him when he decided to jump after the fish he was unable to catch with his hands.”

“I’m sorry that your father thought like that, M.”

Greg said nothing, he didn’t want to disturb this sweet interaction and was glad that they had formed a bond so quickly. The paternal tone in Mycroft’s concerned voice made him smile unintentionally, his partner had a lot to learn about Sue but there was no doubt: the three of them were going to be a great team.

 “Thank you, Susannah. Not every child is blessed with such a caring father as yours but I made my peace with mine long ago. Now I think a few pastries are in order, are they not?”

Sue cheered and with an understanding smile on his lips, Greg nodded at Mycroft, showing him that he got the hint that this was a topic he didn’t want to explore further at the moment, but he would keep it in mind nevertheless. This was the first time he’d heard Mycroft talk about his father and it confirmed the cold and uncaring image he had of the man.

Mycroft steered the boat over to the bank until they stood still, opened the lid of the little compartment hidden under the deck he stood upon and retrieved a picnic basket filled with several pies and a thermos flask full of still hot tea. As they ate, Mycroft told them about the times his mother and Sherlock had visited him during his uni years and how many times Mycroft had to fish his brother out of the water before he had finally accepted swimming lessons from him.

“You’ve done a good job My, I’ve seen him swimming in the Thames like what? Five times? He can even swim in his coat, very impressive.” The image of the soaked Sherlock climbing out of the water wasn’t, but Greg kept that bit to himself.

“Good to know that he never deleted it. Apropos coat, I fear it is rapidly cooling and our little journey must soon to come to an end.”

The sun hadn’t made an appearance for quite some time and now Mycroft had pointed it out, Greg did feel a bit chilly too.

“Ooooh no M, it’s so much fun! Just a little bit longer please?”

“That is exactly what I had in mind, Susannah. The car is waiting half an hour downstream for us so please lean back and enjoy the rest of the trip.”

“Yay!” Sue clapped her hands and climbed back to the bench at the front of the boat. After they put away the plates and cups, Greg handed Mycroft his overcoat.

“Don’t catch a cold, love.” He realised that he never even saw him with a runny nose and that he probably wouldn’t be a model patient when having a cold.   

“Thank you, Gregory.”

Reaching for the coat, Mycroft stood up, but suddenly stumbled, his right knee gave out and he griped Greg’s shoulder for support. Reacting quickly, Greg caught him with his arms around his waist and moved him over to the opposite bench so he could sit down again. Sue was at his side too and they both asked simultaneously if Mycroft was ok.

“Yes, yes, I am fine. Do not be alarmed. This is just my old injury making its disapproval of the weather known.”

Mycroft’s weak attempt of standing up again was prevented by a small and a large hand on each of his shoulders.

“Sit down M, no one is going overboard today.”

“Is it… do you mean your leg is hurting?” Greg was pretty sure it was because the long scar on the back of Mycroft’s thigh, it was at least the only visible old wound he knew of.

“Yes. But do not concern yourselves, it always does when I stress it too much in the cold months. I should have known better than to propose an outing such as this in the autumn.”

“Hey, it’s OK, love.” He cupped Mycroft’s jaw and pecked him on the lips to shut him up. “We’re all fine and I think I can manage to ship us the few miles downstream. And you are not trying to stand up again, understood?”

“But…”

“Sue, guard him!”

“Aye Aye!” Sue squeezed herself on the bench next to Mycroft, linked their arms and grinned.

“Alright…” Greg grabbed the pole awkwardly, he had watched how Mycroft had done it all day long but doing it himself suddenly seemed to be ridiculously difficult. Even more so as he saw two pairs of eyes watching him in amusement. A few clumsy attempts later, Sue and Mycroft were outright laughing.

“Gregory, please let me show you how it is done properly, yes? Although it is very entertaining to watch you figure it out by yourself.”

“Hey, I’m trying my best here!”

“Yeah papa, that’s what it looks like.”

“Stop giggling young Lady and no My, I don’t know if I can catch you again on that wobbly boat. Can’t you just phone the driver to pick us up here?” Looking around, he realized there wasn’t an actual road.

“I could, yes. Timothy is highly trained in off-road evasive driving but I can assure you I am well aware of what I can, and cannot do with the limitations the injury dictates.”

“Is that so? Then why did it happen in the first place?”

 “I apologise for the interruption it causes, my dear. This is more of a summer activity but I hadn’t had the courage to ask you out on such a trip and before I realised it, summer was fading and autumn was fast upon us. This weekend seemed to be the final opportunity this year would present with the weather being mostly agreeable. I merely lost myself in old tales and we paused far too long, otherwise it would not have posed a problem. I am sorry the day did not end well. ”

Greg hadn’t meant to sound so harsh and couldn’t stand to see the disappointment on his lover’s face. Sitting down again in front of them he reached out his hand to lift up Mycroft’s chin, locking on to his gaze.

“Oh My. This was a great idea and the day isn’t over yet. I’m sure Sue enjoyed the trip just as much as I did, am I right?”

“Yep, totally want to do that again next summer!”

“See, Captain Holmes? Now, if you’re sure you can stand up to show me how to handle this bloody long stick, I think I’m able to get us to the car unharmed under your command. Once at home though, you have to promise to spend the evening on the sofa with us, in front of the cosy fireplace with tea and biscuits, right?”

“Alright, Gregory. Since you always know what is best for me, I entrust myself to your capable hands when we arrive at home. For now, look, you have to hold the pole like this… Please do turn around so I can show you the correct technique.”

Sue’s attention was drawn back to the underwater world as they started practicing and when Mycroft stood up he was only slightly unsteady. Securely pressed against Greg’s back, his arms came around and his hands covered his own on the pole. Although Greg was distracted by the sensations Mycroft’s leather gloved fingers caused on his bare hands, he got the hang of it and could soon be left alone to guide them down the river.

He was still concerned about Mycroft’s condition but the man lived with that injury for over 15 years and was old enough to decide how to handle it. But he wanted to know more about it now that he knew it still had a negative effect on him after all those years. Maybe he could offer him a massage later in exchange for a bit more information? Convincing him to allow Greg to knead away the pain and the tension with his warm, oiled hands for another story from his past shouldn’t be that difficult and it would be the proper ending for such a lovely day.

 

\---

_While I was writing this chapter, I came across this[lovely piece of fanart](http://foxybadger42.tumblr.com/post/63850480505/commission-for-mystradesexytimes-they-asked-for) which assured me how sweet the image of the two of them in a punting-boat is._


	14. The Sound of Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of loving hands and what they can cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments so far, they are very much appreciated!

 

_~ Mycroft’s POV ~_

Although Mycroft currently felt extremely relaxed, he was also slightly angry with himself. At least now he knew that no secret was safe when Gregory Lestrade reached for a bottle of lavender massage oil.

He and Sue had taken superb care of him once they returned home. They had wrapped him up in a blanket on the sofa, placed a hot water bottle on his lap and served him beverages and snacks for the rest of the evening.

Admittedly it felt wonderful to be cared for with such affection, but there really was no need, his leg was no worse than normal under the circumstances. Mycroft was used to having a bit of trouble with it now and then and hated to look like an invalid in front of them, even if they did seem to relish in fussing over him as they were.

After Sue had gone to bed, Greg had nonchalantly offered him a massage to which he naively agreed, only thinking that it would be nice if the stiffness in his leg would for a change be removed by Gregory’s hands rather than by his physical therapist.

It had started slowly. Lying naked face down on their bed Greg had straddled his calves, dressed only in a pair of Mycroft’s pyjama bottoms where the too long fabric always pooled so endearingly upon his bare feet. He had begun with his thighs, digging his thumbs tenderly but expertly into the abused flesh, testing how much pressure he could use before it caused him undue pain. As Greg carefully rubbed up and down at the edges of the scar, Mycroft had felt all the tension drain out of him. The aches faded and he concentrated only on the touch of his lover’s hands, his mind drifted into a dizzy state of relaxation and arousal and that was when Greg had started to ask questions. He had moved to straddle his waist, kneading the warm oil into his shoulders as he whispered into his ear.

Mycroft answered, telling him everything he wanted to know. He felt no shame in front of him and who, if not Gregory deserved to know what had happened to him so long ago? So he spoke quietly about his time as a governmental field agent, how a suspect had managed to stab a knife into his thigh during a fight and how long he had to wait for help, bleeding onto the floor of some godforsaken, dusty hangar on a Tunisian airfield. He told him how hard it had been for him to sit in a wheelchair for weeks until he could walk again, refusing a cane and taking an umbrella instead. Mycroft even told him about his depression afterwards, that it had taken some time for him to get used to his new job behind the desk.

Having someone without ulterior motives to speak about this, someone who wanted to know because it was part of his life, because he wanted to know him better than anyone else, was something Mycroft thought he would never have. He felt lighter somehow, now that he had Gregory to help him carry the weight of his past.

Behind him Gregory hummed approvingly as he spoke, his hands roaming over his back, drifting further down minute by minute, until they stopped at the small of his back and suddenly Gregory was gone. Mycroft stirred but a reassuring hand between his shoulder blades pushed him gently back down. Suddenly he was painfully aware of his own erection rubbing against the sheets as he rolled his hips, a surprised gasp escaping him as he realised how far he was already gone without noticing. He wavered a few moments as uncomfortable thoughts crossed his mind all at once. Was Sue already asleep? Why was he always so weak under his Gregory’s hands? At what point had the massage turned into so much more? Was it appropriate to let desire take over? All of the unsure traitorous thoughts evaporated as soon as he focussed once more on the heat and support of the man behind him.

Greg had returned and was now straddling his legs; there was no mistaking the lack of pyjama bottoms as hot, bare skin met his.  Kisses landed on the nape of his neck and the sensation of his lover’s stubble on his skin was so exquisite that he couldn’t wait for tomorrow when the shaving ban made them even stronger. He pressed his face deeper into the pillow that lay over his crossed arms, enjoying the anticipation that came with not being able to see where Gregory’s touch would land next.  

The kisses travelled lower, just as the hands before them had, but they didn’t stop. Soft, wet nibbles ghosted over his hips, followed by little bites on his cheeks and the most pleasurable licks over his scar. All that, accompanied by the prickling feeling of the growing beard, had him squirming in minutes. That was until strong hands on his hips instructed him to lie still once more.

They didn’t need words this time and Mycroft hadn’t even thought about trying to remain quiet. The massage and the talk had left his body and mind so relaxed that he just breathed heavily into the pillow. Gregory’s panting and his own gasps were the only sounds in the quiet room.

Mycroft was incredibly close and it was difficult not to start thrusting against the sheets once more but as warm oil dropped onto his cheeks and Gregory began to massage them tenderly, he once again melted boneless into the mattress. Thumbs were sneaking into his cleft, spreading him wider with every move until fingertips brushed his entrance. Not pushing in, just stroking and applying just a little bit of frustratingly light pressure. His body shook every time, but relaxed again, it was not enough to push him over the edge yet.

Those big hands which were firmly kneading his arse was all he could think about. How they had handed him a cup of tea this morning, how they had stopped him from falling into the water later and how they had plucked leather handcuffs out of a bedside table. Now the pictures of their day together got mixed up with his fantasies and he saw those hands securing his wrists with the soft, black leather to the headboard. Stretching out his arms as if it was reality, he knelt up and pushed back, making Greg grunt behind him as his erection skimmed smoothly over Mycroft’s oiled bum.

He gripped the wooden bars of the headboard and stretched his back, imagining how it would feel to be tied up there, the thrill of the leather rubbing against his flesh as his lover made him writhe in his confinement. Gregory’s hands gripped his sides, holding him steady while his cock slid over the shiny skin of his backside until one of them finally came around to pay attention to Mycroft’s erection.

As slippery fingers curled around his cock he sobbed his relief into the pillow as he needed very few of Gregory’s slow, teasing stokes until he came in absolute silence, his body shaking all over. He wanted to push back again to give Greg more friction but his body suddenly felt so weak that he just dropped back down onto the sheets, hands still holding onto the headboard. His lover’s body followed him down, braced on one hand and his forehead pressed against his neck. Hovering over him, Greg panted as he stroked himself to completion. Mycroft felt the hushed noises he made on his skin more than he heard them, parted lips left open mouthed kisses then teeth bit down once, a second before his back was covered with the warm drops of Greg’s semen.

Slowly, Greg lowered his body until he lay stretched out on Mycroft’s back. His hands stroked down his arms, lingering at his wrists for a squeeze before loosen his fingers from the wooden bars to entangle them with his own.

No, they needed no words this time.

*

After a shower and a quick change of sheets they lay together, Greg spooned up behind Mycroft, holding him close as he whispered against his neck.

“Thanks for telling me.”

“Thank you for wanting to know.”


	15. All Under One Roof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of boxes, beer and friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who keeps reading, much love to you all! :)

_ _

_~ Greg’s POV ~_

Greg lay on his old sofa, surrounded by more than 20 cardboard boxes. He didn’t hoard stuff, didn’t keep things if they no longer had a purpose so why the hell did he seem to have so much? There had to be more here in these boxes than he’d actually had in the flat. To compound the situation the ones with his clothes were already in the bedroom! Well, he would have to find places in the house to put his stuff but most of it would probably stay here, in his new rooms on the fourth floor. Mycroft had shown him the two front rooms this morning, telling him that he could make them his own if he wanted to, but that he would gladly rearrange every other room if he felt isolated. But somehow Greg liked the feeling up here, quiet and with a beautiful view over the rooftops of London. The walls were partly panelled with dark wood like in Mycroft’s study, but above it was painted white, there were also two built in closets which would come in handy because besides his sofa he didn’t have any furniture. Of course Mycroft offered to buy him anything he needed to make him comfortable here, but Greg’s modesty made him refuse. If Greg wanted the rooms to feel like his, he needed to furnish them himself. He didn’t want to feel like a “kept” man so he’d get a new coffee table and a desk himself.

Mycroft had refused point blank when Greg offered to pay rent. He admitted it was stupid to ask but he felt like he had to contribute to live here in all this luxury he could never afford on his own. But as Mycroft hugged him close, telling him that his presence in the house alone made him happier than he ever believed he could be, the awkward feeling ebbed away.

He’d already decided the smaller room was going to be his own little study with a nicer desk and a much more comfortable chair than he had in his office at the Yard, so he could do some of his paperwork here in peace instead of staying there half the night. The bigger room would be his personal living room where he could invite his mates without worrying about what might happen to the carpet if the match wasn’t playing out to their liking. Also, no housekeeper would be allowed in here. If it was messy it would stay like that until Greg found the time to clean it himself.

Yes, this could be nice. This could be really, really nice.

When he heard a very faint ding dong sound through the open door, he made his way down slowly, knowing Sue would beat him to the door anyway. He smiled as he heard her happy shriek when she opened the door and knew she was already hugging Sherlock, who would never fail to look as if he didn’t care how glad she was to see him. Reaching the last staircase he was pushed against the wall as Sue rushed past him in the opposite direction with Sherlock on her coat tails. Stopping briefly, Sherlock nodded to him before he followed her further up the stairs.

“Lestrade. Your daughter insists upon my company in the music room.”

“Just be nice to each other.” Greg called behind them in amusement, Sherlock didn’t just go with her because it was the least objectionable option for him; he actually enjoyed her company even if they were bickering most of the time.

As he finally reached the front door he knew that if he was going to spend any kind of time in his rooms upstairs, he wasn’t going to need any other exercise; climbing up and down those stairs on a daily basis would be enough. The kitchen was miles away really, he’d probably need his own fridge up there.

Greg walked into the hall and found John waiting there whilst Mycroft was about to put away his coat.

“Thanks for coming, mate. I hope it wasn’t too difficult to get Sherlock to come along?”

“Hey Greg! No, surprisingly not. I had to make far less promises than usual. I think he might have missed Sue a bit.”

“When my brother agrees willingly to have lunch at this house, she must have a greater influence on him than I thought.” Mycroft was obviously astonished about just how good the two of them got along and smiled fondly while he rested his hand on Greg’s shoulder. “If you two will excuse me now, Gregory already ordered Chinese takeaway that will arrive in an hour and I would like to have sorted out the wardrobe crisis in the dressing room before then.”

With a short nod at John and a gentle squeeze of Greg’s shoulder, Mycroft made his way upstairs.

“Wardrobe crisis, huh?”

“He volunteered to rearrange the wardrobe so my clothes will fit in. But I bet he’s only doing it so he can throw half of it away, before blaming the moving team so he can offer to buy me some new things.”

“Yeah, that’s a very Holmesian thing to do. Only mine are usually intentionally burned or cauterized.”

“We’re in this together, my friend. Now come on John, let’s get a beer and then I’ll show you what Mycroft calls my _rooms of retreatment_.”

“You’ll need something like that, believe me.”

“Yeah, probably more than I want to believe right now.” But he didn’t think about the times when he would be mad at Mycroft and need a break; it was more that he thought he would probably be more comfortable there when Mycroft was out of the house.

John looked at him with a slightly worried look on his face so he quickly went into the kitchen to get the beer. On their way upstairs, John stopped behind him as they reached the third floor and alarmed voices emanated from the music room.

 

_“Sue, shut up.”_

_“But Sherlock.”_

_“No.”_

Gesturing towards the room, offering to have a word with Sherlock and tell him to be nice, John looked at Greg questioningly, but he just shook his head, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Let them, they haven’t seen each other for a while. Just listen.”

Grinning at each other they stood in the hallway, eavesdropping on Sue’s and Sherlock’s bantering.

_“Sherlock!”_

_“No.”_

_“Please?”_

_“The physical appearance of the please makes no difference.”_

_“I knew it! I knew you'd watched it! Ha you can't hide that from me. You want a minion don't you?”_

_“Why would I require a minion. I have John.”_

_“I am so telling him you said that!”_

_“Don't you dare!”_

_“Then play with me.”_

Without another word, sweet violin tunes emerged from the room, soon accompanied by a piano.

“He didn’t bring his violin, did he?” John whispered, looking puzzled and completely ignoring the insult.

“Mycroft keeps his first violin here, always tuned, in case he needs to calm down when he visits. He said Sue was very excited when he showed it to her.”

“I didn’t know they could play so beautifully together.” John was clearly touched and Greg had to admit that he missed Sherlock’s visits at his old house. He had sometimes brought his violin and let her play along even if she hadn’t played as perfectly as she did now. He was glad that the music still connected them in such a lovely way.

“Yeah, they do. But more importantly, how did you get Sherlock to watch Despicable Me?”

“You don’t want to know, believe me. Let’s go before they hear us.” John’s heated smirk spoke volumes and Greg knew better than to ask more questions.

“Naughty Doctor Watson.”

*

“Wow, this is nice!”

“Exactly what I thought, too.” Greg stood in the middle of the cardboard mess and grinned proudly.

“No furniture, but nice.”

“Oh fuck off, I’ll get there. In a few months you don’t want to watch a match anywhere else.”

“Just kidding. You want to start unpacking now, or…”

“Nah, let’s wait until after lunch.” He flung himself onto the sofa, putting his feet up on a box and took a sip from his beer bottle. “The kids will entertain themselves the whole day, no worries and Mycroft will have a hard time sorting out a few of his clothes to make room for mine. If you haven’t seen his wardrobe you can’t imagine how many clothes one man can possess.”

John chuckled and sat down next to him, using the same box as a footstool.

“So, this is it then. Bit fast, don’t you think?”

“Oh that’s rich coming from you, mate.”

“Yeah, I know I’m not exactly the best example here. What I meant is, did you have enough time to think this through?”

“I probably thought about it as long as you did. A second at most. John, you should have seen him when he asked me.” Throwing his head back on the headrest Greg let out a deep sigh as he remembered the look in Mycroft’s pleading eyes. “Sue provoked it, but I think it would have broken him if I had said no.”

“Still no progress concerning his insecurity then.”

“No, not really. It’s something about the two of them even we aren’t able to change. I really tried and I know you did too, but they will always be like that.”

“Probably, but we should never stop trying.”

“We won’t change either, so no worries on that front.”

“When you’re right, you’re right.”

“I can only hope I can cope with all this in the long run. Living in this house I mean. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great but…”

“Not really your style, no. Just tell him early enough when you don’t feel at home here, no reason to keep quiet about that.”

“That’s not it, I feel already at home when Mycroft is here. Ask me again the next time I’m alone here for a week.”

“You know you can come over anytime, Greg.”

“I know that, thanks. Seriously John, thanks for everything.”

“As you said, we’re in this together.”

Smiling at each other, they sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before they started chatting about more comfortable things, until Greg heard the squeak of a step from the hallway. He looked around and jumped to his feet as he saw Mycroft standing in the door.

“Oh love, I told you to be careful with your leg. Coming all the way up here is not exactly what I meant by that.”

“I am perfectly fine, my dear Gregory. I came to inform you that lunch has arrived so you may join us in the dining room.”

“Yeah, sure. You should have send Sue though.”

“Susannah made Sherlock set the table and I thought better of interfering. Yes you heard correctly, John.”

Closing his mouth again after his jaw had dropped, John laughed. “Can I borrow her please?”

Greg felt suddenly sorry that he hadn’t taken Sue to Baker Street more often. John barely knew her and watching her and Sherlock together was an evening activity of the special kind.

“Oh the two of them… We’ll be right there, My. Just a mo.”

Greg watched as Mycroft turned to go back down and saw a slight limp in his step, unnoticeable if you weren’t looking for it. Stepping closer to John he spoke quietly.

“Have you ever noticed his occasional limp?”

“What? No, never.”

“Well I guess he hides it well when he walks with his umbrella, but the injury is more than fifteen years old, is it normal that it still effects him?”

“I still limp sometimes and you know the bullet didn’t even hit my leg, Greg.”

“Good point. But he seemed OK when we talked about it.”

“Just keep an eye on him. I’m sure he’s had the best treatment but if you think it’s getting worse, tell me and I’ll try to have a word with him.”

“Right. But you know what? He probably just wants another massage and I shouldn’t complain about that.”

“Naughty Detective Inspector.”

Giggling, they made their way downstairs to the dining room where a frowning Sherlock sat on one end of the huge table with his arms crossed in front of his chest, a happily humming Sue filled the plates and a very irritated looking Mycroft observed the two of them in astonishment. John snorted next to him, trying to stifle his laugh at the sight of them. Greg smiled, thinking that this was probably a scene he would see again many times in their future. Having something like this to look forward to would make living here much, much easier.


	16. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of spring rolls and whisky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your kudos, for your comments and encouragement, I couldn't do this without all your support! And without my dear friend and beta Erasmus_Jones, this story wouldn't even exist.

__

_~ Mycroft’s POV ~_

Mycroft smiled as Sue shared out the last of the food and although Sherlock hadn’t said anything, she placed a little spring roll on his plate which he ate without complaint. His brother had never been especially good at eating and it always warmed his heart to see him enjoying a meal. He thought about the dinners at Baker Street they had shared over the years and how much everything had changed since then. He and Sherlock had always sat in the living room, pining over the two men busy in the kitchen and engaged in one of their silent conversations, at ease with themselves in a manner they hadn’t been since childhood. They both read each other too well to hide their obvious attraction towards John and Gregory and often shared encouraging glances, trying to animate the other to finally make a move until Sherlock did and Mycroft still hadn’t been able to admit his feelings. They barely spoke about it but in the end it had been Sherlock who took him aside and with heated words talked some sense into him. Partly because he couldn’t stand the impassioned looks between them anymore but also because now he could talk from experience and couldn’t miss an opportunity to be superior to his older brother. He had told Mycroft how life changing it was to be in a loving relationship, how it felt to be loved in return and that he had never been happier in his life. Furthermore, that John had threatened he would lock them in a room together should they continued to dance around each other as they were.

At Sherlock and John’s urging, Mycroft had eventually taken the next step and had quickly discovered that all he had been told was true and far better than he could have ever imagined. It had brought them closer together as brothers as well, now that they were more content with life in general and had supportive partners at their sides they were less antagonistic towards each other. Knowing how much Sherlock loved Gregory’s cooking and obviously also his daughters company, Mycroft wondered if it would now be possible for them to have a Christmas dinner like this. He had never been overly fond of the holidays but having them all together more often and on special occasions was a very pleasing thought.

Mycroft was brought back to reality when Greg stood up to gather their empty plates and Sue interrupted him.

“I’ve got this papa, you better go up with John and get some work done. I know you, if you don’t start unpacking now your stuff will be living in boxes for the next few years.”

“Yes Ma’am!” Greg grinned at her broadly before he turned to Mycroft, letting his fingers absentminded run up and down at the outside of Mycroft’s hand on the table as he stood beside him. “Solved the wardrobe crises yet, love?”

“I fear not, but I shall be finished shortly.” He wouldn’t. Mycroft had never thought it would be a problem but when he had opened every wardrobe and stood in the middle of his dressing room, he realised that there was absolutely no room left. The little space that had once been unoccupied was already filled with Gregory’s spare clothes and the only solution now was removing some of his own clothes and rearranging his long held system.

“Don’t worry, we can always sort that out in the evening.”

“Of course.” No, that was definitely out of question because the plans Mycroft had for their evening alone didn’t involve the dressing room. He gave Greg his most reassuring smile and his eyes followed him as he left the room with John.

“You don’t have to do this alone Susannah, let me help you.” Mycroft started placing the empty take-away cartons into each other and put them into one of the plastic bags whilst Sherlock ignored them, typing away on his phone. “Sherlock, do be so kind as to aid in the clearing of the table, won’t you?”

Sherlock looked up in discomfort but before he could say something snappy, Sue waved dismissively.

“Thanks M, but I think I’m actually quicker not having to look after the both of you. You can bin that but I’ve got the rest.”

“If you insist, but leaving all the work to you displeases me.”

“Honest, no problem. You two go and have a drink or something, I’ll get this sorted.”

“As you wish.”

Mycroft went outside to the bins, shivering against the cold he was happy once he was back inside. Somehow his house felt even warmer filled with so many people dear to him and smelled more like home than ever.

He found Sherlock in the sitting room in one of the opulent armchairs, palms pressed together in front of his face. Mycroft knew better than to interrupt when his brother assumed his thinking position. He went to the cabinet and poured them both a measure of his best whiskey, setting Sherlock’s down on the coffee table as he crossed the room to sit in his frequented armchair opposite his brother. Sipping his whiskey he savoured the exquisite taste as he patiently waited until Sherlock was done chasing a few of the endless trains of thought that ran through his mind and he once again surfaced form his almost trance like state.  
  
Sherlock reached for his glass and swallowed half of the liquid without a hint of appreciation of its quality. How Mycroft hated this behaviour, still he refused to offer his brother one of the cheaper whiskeys he kept in the back of the cabinet. Before his anger could manifest and rear its ugly head, Sherlock spoke.

“It’s not easy living with someone else.”  He paused and emptied his glass, putting it back on the table and looked sternly at Mycroft. “Even when you love them.”

“Especially when you love them, Sherlock. I could be mistaken but I think love is what makes it so difficult. You and I are the best example, little brother.”

“As if you would ever admit to being wrong.”

“It may shock you, but I have discovered I was wrong regarding several things in the past.”  
  
Sherlock watched him intrigued, observing his features whilst trying to deduce exactly what Mycroft was thinking about. He always got it right and it worked just as well the other way round. It was a skill they had practiced and perfected since their youth, communicating in silence so that no one could overhear their intimate conversations and even today it was always a welcoming challenge for both of them. People may think they had nothing to say to each other, but they couldn’t be more wrong.  
  
A smug grin played around Sherlock’s lips as soon as he found what he was looking for, but it vanished shortly after. He always needed a few extra seconds to analyse the emotional depth of his discovery and Mycroft gave him time, let him read everything he needed to know.

“Mycroft, we were raised in the belief that we would never need something like…” As he couldn’t find the right words, Sherlock just pointed towards the ceiling where Gregory and John probably discussed a similar topic. “…this.” Then he spread his arms wide. “All of this. Family! It’s not your fault, we were both lead in the wrong direction and we can count ourselves lucky that one goodhearted and extremely patient Inspector finally managed to get us both on the right track. Just don’t make the mistake and try to buy Lestrade’s affection, he doesn’t care about the money. It is exactly what father had tried and I don’t have to remind you how it ended. You acquired this habit and he doesn’t like it.”

“I spend most of my life believing that I could buy everything that my heart desired. I could not have been more incorrect, but I suppose it is not a habit that I can easily break. However, I appreciate your concern and will remember your advice. Thank you, Sherlock.”

“Don’t mention it, just keep quiet about what I said.”  
  
“I’m sorry but I fear we have been overheard already.” Smiling proudly because he really couldn’t tell how long Sue had been eavesdropping, Mycroft turned towards the door, ignoring Sherlock’s frustrated snort because he hadn’t been the first who noticed.

“Susannah? You can come in, it is much more comfortable in here than behind the door.”  
  
After a quiet “Fuck!” was murmured Sue entered the room, looking extremely innocent if you ignored the mischievous gleam in her eyes and sat down on the sofa between the two occupied armchairs. Sherlock frowned, covering up his discomfort at being caught giving emotional advice to his brother and looked stubbornly out of the window in silence.

“You shouldn’t swear like your father, Susannah. It is not becoming behaviour in a young Lady.”  
  
“Sorry, can’t help it. It’s in the genes, just like the eavesdropping.”

“Excuse me?” Within seconds various scenarios of how Gregory would react if he had also overheard their conversation flooded his mind, but Sue interrupted before he could drive himself into a panic attack.  
  
“Hey calm down M, I didn’t mean right now. Sherlock just heard them earlier when we were in the music room.”

Mycroft tried to hide his relief but he twisted his mouth slightly in discomfort as he saw the side glance from his brother. Yes, he got the hint, they are both equally adept at locating lurking Lestrades. But there was still an issue waiting to be taken care of.

“So Susannah, tell me. What does it take for you to keep quiet about whatever you might have heard?”  
  
“Oh, I thought you wanted to take Sherlock’s advice about trying not to buy people? But well, in this case… I think I might be sufficiently appeased when Sherlock tells me all about the last case he solved with papa. And I bet you are delighted to stay and listen to his monologue.”  
  
Outplayed by a teenager and probably not for the last time. But if he was honest with himself, he really was impressed.

“Your father pre-warned me that you have a tendency to always get what you want.”

“Yep!”

Reluctantly, Mycroft stood up to refill their glasses, pouring himself a little more than usual and offering Sue a glass of pineapple juice that she happily accepted. He sank back into his chair, crossing his legs as he put on a false smile.

 “Do proceed, brother. I believe we await your tales of adventure with baited breath.”

Sue giggled and Sherlock just smirked spitefully, knowing perfectly well that all the details had been recounted to Mycroft by Gregory in depth and that he hated nothing more than hearing the same story twice. But seeing how exited they both were, Sherlock because he had found a willing audience and Sue because she obviously enjoyed listening to his tales, Mycroft decided there were worse things in life and settled back to sip at his drink and listen to the animation in his companions voices. Yes, Mycroft thought, there were definitely worse things in life than this. 


	17. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Holmesian way to welcome home Gregory Lestrade - Part One

 

~ Greg’s POV ~

 

Greg couldn’t help the goofy smile that spread across his face as Sue hugged Mycroft goodbye, or the skip in his heartbeat when the tall man knelt to her level to properly hug her back. Sherlock and John had left an hour ago and he was proud to say that with only a few boxes left, it felt like he had officially moved in. It was nearly getting dark outside and even if none of them wanted the lovely weekend to end, it was time to take Sue home.

Releasing Mycroft after another squeeze, Sue walked out of the door and headed for the waiting car. She stopped midway and turned around again to wave at Mycroft.

“See you soon, M!”

“I hope so, Susannah. You are always welcome here.”

Greg put on his leather jacket, the one he knew Mycroft loved to see him in, and reached for his daughter’s wheeled case before pecking waving love on the cheek.

“See you _very_ soon, My! I’ll be back in an hour, ready to celebrate moving in properly with you.”

“I await your return most eagerly, Gregory. Advise Timothy to expedite your return home.”

While Greg had thought his own smile had been seductive, it was nothing compared to the look that Mycroft gave him right now. He was also leaning in to press a kiss to Greg’s lips that promised more, so much more that his knees weakened and suddenly the prospect of an hour’s absence was almost painful. Nevertheless, he always took his daughter home. Even if Mycroft’s car was probably one of the safest ways to travel in London, Iris wouldn’t be happy if her girl was sent home in an unknown car driven by a stranger.

“Yeah, will do.” Greg didn’t intend to sound so breathless but since he seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, there was just no more air left in his lungs.

He wanted to run towards the car so he could be back as soon as possible but before he could turn, Mycroft took his hand and put something in his palm. Long fingers curled around Greg’s and Mycroft bent them gently, closing them around the object before lifting his hand to brush his lips against the knuckles.

“I will be waiting for you upstairs, my dear Gregory.”

Turning around, Mycroft sashayed up the stairs slowly and instead of a limp, there was a very promising sway in his step. After Greg enjoyed a few seconds of staring at his beloved’s backside, he looked down at his hand. It was the key to Mycroft’s - _their_ \- house with a very familiar looking Chelsea key ring that once held the key to his old flat.

Greg was overwhelmed by the gesture, everything had happened so fast that it felt like a dream and his brain was only just catching up with reality. It was only when he heard Sue’s voice from outside, calling him, that he remembered he was supposed to be taking her home, not standing gawping in the hallway. Closing the door behind him he hurried outside, placed the case in the boot and dropped the key into his pocket before he fell heavily into the seat beside Sue.

“You alright, papa?”

“Everything’s fine, Sue. More than fine actually and even better if you tell me that you enjoyed the weekend.”

“Really? As if you don’t know already. Papa, it was the most brilliant weekend ever! Mycroft is even cooler than I thought he would be, the house is so beautiful that I don’t even know where to begin and the trip to Cambridge? Awesome!”

“Ow you wound me, what about the weekend I took you to Cardiff when they filmed Doctor Who and we did all that geeky sightseeing there? Wasn’t that the most brilliant weekend ever? Or when I got tickets for that folk concert that was actually sold out but you wanted to go to so badly?” 

“Oh come on, you’re just being jealous now, but you have to admit that Mycroft is just perfect, isn’t he?”

“Well, I guess he’s all right…” To his shame, that stupid smile on his lips when he said that refused to go away and instead turned into a broad grin as Sue poked his upper arm.

“If _all right_ means that you love him? Than I agree, yes.”

“You are insufferable sometimes, you know that? But yeah, you’ve got me there because if I deny it you’ll just call me immature, so we can skip that part and you can start giggling now.”

She did, enthusiastically so but stopped after a few seconds, looking very serious all of a sudden.

“I’m quite sure he loves you back, you know? Otherwise I wouldn’t have done it. Bringing up the moving-in topic I mean.”

Sue looked down at her feet, rubbing the soles of her green boots together with a trace of shyness that was so very unlike her. Reaching out his arm Greg pulled her to his side, as close as their seatbelts would allow and dropped a kiss on her hair.

“I know my Sugarbug, I know.”

“I just thought it would take you ages to get there without help. I’m sorry if it was out of order, I’m still glad you accepted though.”

“I would have ended up there sooner or later and I’m grateful that you helped push us in the right direction before it really was later. And of course you were right, it was the most brilliant weekend ever.”

Sue snuggled up against his side and stayed there until they reached their destination. They said their goodbyes at the front door and made plans for another brilliant weekend. Iris took the chance to made fun of his growing beard which earned her a scolding look from Sue who insisted that it made him look even more striking, something she had heard Mycroft saying and therefore it must be true. Greg was indeed very fond of his beard right this second because he hoped that it would make his blush less obvious.

When Greg wanted to hug his daughter a second time, she hugged him quickly and then pushed him away with a kind reminder that Mycroft was waiting for him and he should make his way back home.

Home. Yes, he was driving home to Mycroft and it felt fantastic. Greg wasn’t naive, he knew the workday stress would get to them the same as it did to everyone else, it wouldn’t always be as rosy as it was now, but not today. It was Sunday evening, the weekend had been lovely, full of wonderful surprises and it wasn’t over yet. Greg had thought it would take longer for Mycroft to get used to a teenager being in the house, especially after it started a bit bumpy, but he was immensely proud of how Sue had handled this not really day-to-day situation of meet-your-dad’s-new-boyfriend.

As the car moved along the dark but still busy streets of London, Greg’s thoughts drifted to Mycroft’s last words. What was waiting for him at home? Images of freckled skin, glowing in the dancing light of the fire filled his mind, followed quickly by fantasies of being taken hard against the wall. Or even just a quiet evening on the sofa? Reading in front of the fireplace after they had a look at the problem in the dressing room together? That last idea sounded horribly domestic but it felt like he was up for anything and everything tonight, Greg thought, willing away the naughty thoughts and stepped out of the car to hurry inside. Thinking back at what they had done so far and just how much he had enjoyed it, with Mycroft he was always up for everything because with this man, everything was possible. Greg could make a complete fool of himself thinking steering a boat couldn’t be so complicated, then be taught otherwise in a most gallant way. He could pretend to be physically unaffected whilst giving a full body massage to the most beautiful man he’s ever laid his hands on until there was obvious interest on the other side and he could move into a posh London town house over the weekend, just like that. At the moment, nothing seemed to be impossible.

Closing the door behind him he realised that _upstairs_ could apply to many rooms in this house, but decided to start looking for Mycroft in the bedroom, even if that was the most obvious choice and therefore a very unlikely place to find his lover tonight. But he had to start somewhere.

Kicking his shoes off in the hallway and throwing the jacket over the handrail he climbed up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Reaching the second floor Greg heard faint strains of music flowing down from the floor above that made him stop. Turning to follow it, he headed in the direction of the music room. As he got closer and recognised the honeyed tones of a cello playing the heartbreakingly beautiful melody, his heart started to race in excitement and joy. He waited with his eyes closed, just enjoying the music as it washed over him, relishing in the exaltation and anticipation of getting to see Mycroft play for the first time before he slowly pushed open the door. Greg peered inside, his heart beating fast as he drank in the sight before him and for the second time that evening, he forgot how to breathe altogether.

 

\---

_For everyone who wants to know what  Greg is hearing, Mycroft plays Saint-Saens'[The Swan.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNbXuFBjncw&list=RDsWa8O3V8SgU) _


	18. Cello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Holmesian way to welcome home Gregory Lestrade - Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, my dear readers, is the last chapter. Well sort of because there is going to be a short epilogue which I'm going to post the next days, but basically, that's it! Thanks for being part of this journey, it was incredible and it will go on next year!

__

_~ Mycroft’s POV ~_

Mycroft was equally torn between losing himself in the music he played and listening to the sound of Gregory’s pounding footsteps as he ascended the stairs hastily. He swayed along with the slow rhythm, his eyes had closed automatically like they always did as soon he touched bow to strings. Breathing deeply and steady he played on, waiting for his lover to discover his whereabouts and letting the notes he produced be his sirens call.

He had passed the last minutes of his wait in Sue’s room, one window above his usual hiding place, watching and waiting impatiently for his Gregory to return.

Sue had left the room in an impeccable state, even stripping the sheets from the bed and he had to smile at the fact that tidiness was a trait she didn’t share with her father. The only thing she had left, evidently quite purposefully, was her toothbrush in the bathroom. It lay lonely but proudly on top of the sink and Mycroft found this little act of possessiveness utterly endearing. Yes, it was unmistakably  _her_  room now.

Everything was set up as Mycroft had planned; the cello had been whipped into shape by a specialist, he had used his time alone to practice one of his favourite pieces and was surprised how easily everything came back as though he had never stopped playing. His next step had been deciding on what he would wear, he had given it much thought, but in the end he’d gone for an _overtly seductive_ outfit. He had chosen to go bare footed; the pale skin of his feet would be highlighted by black suit trousers and a pristine white shirt, left unbuttoned with a black tie hanging loosely on his chest. He forewent underwear, which would allow him more room for what he wanted to do to his beloved in the aftermath of the prelude and would also add an extra spark of desire when discovered. 

Now he played for Gregory’s ears only and judging by the sharp intake of breath that came from the direction of the door, also for his eyes only. He didn’t look up, he kept playing the melancholy melody that had so often been his only companion on lonely nights to the man he wanted to spend every future night with from now on. Mycroft played with all his heart, all the longing he had been carrying around for so long and he played with all the love that swelled in his heart. There was movement in the room and it was overwhelming to feel Gregory coming closer, to know that he saw him completely, emotions raw and on display only for him. He must have settled in the armchair opposite Mycroft’s position, perfect, just where he wanted him to be now that the piece was drawing to a close.

Mycroft could feel Gregory’s eyes on him, knew the hungry gleam that was focussed on him all too well and he drew out the last notes achingly slowly in order to enjoy every second of it. When he finally let the last note fade to silence he allowed the bow to sink until the tip barely hovered above the ground before opening his eyes and fixing Greg with a seductive look from under his lashes. He had been right, Greg returned his look with lust filled eyes that suggested he was moments from a complete loss of control.

However, Mycroft had other plans. Today it was his turn, the urge to wield his power over Gregory, to claim this man as his own had built over the last few days and he was unable to suppress it any longer. He stood up slowly, never breaking eye contact even whilst putting the cello and the bow aside and his determined look seemed to keep Greg in place. Most of the time Mycroft needed much more force to pin him down but right now, one look was enough. It would change as soon things got heated, but he was more than prepared for the challenge.

Seeing how his partner shifted in the chair, spreading his legs wider in anticipation, made Mycroft very aware of the arousal that pooled low in his own stomach. He padded forward on the carpeted floor soundlessly, approaching Gregory predatorily. Tugging at the end of the loose tie until it slipped from his collar he stepped between his legs and with a swift motion caught Greg’s neck with the black silken band, drawing him closer.

“Welcome home, Gregory.”

His voice was low and Mycroft breathed against wet lips before he lowered himself down and kissed him possessively. Strong arms wrapped around his waist and he allowed them to pull him into his lap while he tightened the grip on the tie. Greg’s hands roamed his back and soon his already unbuttoned shirt fell from his shoulders and was now hanging loosely from his crooked elbows. Now his lover’s large and skilful hands were everywhere, sliding from between his shoulder blades down to the small of his back, but before Greg got the chance to win the upper hand, Mycroft knelt up. In the comfortable armchair his knees were firmly tucked up alongside Greg’s thighs and he pressed his body against him, pinning him vigorously against the chair-back. Looking down at him, Mycroft tugged once more on the tie until Greg’s chin was pressed against his chest, stubble scraping deliciously against his sensitive skin. Mycroft brushed his nipple against the rough cheek and moaned in satisfaction, secretly hoping Greg would grow a beard more often.

“Now tell me Gregory, did you enjoy my little concert? Did I compare with one of your fantasies?”

Greg swallowed, his hands had fallen to Mycroft’s hips where they clutched helplessly.

“Oh My, you beat even the sexiest fantasy of them all. You took my breath away you beautiful creature.”

They looked at each other for a moment before Mycroft loosened the tie and leant in for another heated kiss. One of Greg’s hands slipped lower and he groaned into Mycroft’s mouth as he noticed the lack of underwear. The second hand followed to give his bum tight squeezes and Mycroft ravelled in the pleasure of rubbing his erection against Greg’s broad chest. If he would keep going he could probably come like this, in his suit trousers, but he wanted so much more tonight.

Breaking the kiss he climbed down, pulling Greg to his feet by keeping a strong grip on the two ends of the tie.

“I have to tend to my instrument before I come back to you, my dear. You will wait for me in the bedroom, naked. Now go.”

Greg’s eyes widened and Mycroft released him, shedding his shirt he turned around before he lost control and had to take him right here on the floor. He heard him slipping out of the room wordlessly, making his way downstairs swiftly. Mycroft loosened the hair of his bow quickly and polished the wood with a soft cloth, laying the bow inside the case he noticed his hands were shaking in anticipation.

Gregory must have finished undressing by now and Mycroft had to try very hard not to run on his way to the bedroom. He took a deep breath before he entered and sighed as he caught sight of his Gregory, sprawled on his belly in the middle of their bed, waiting for him. His head rested on his crossed forearms and he smirked at him wickedly as Mycroft stopped in front of the bed to take a moment to admire what was his to take.

“What are you waiting for? Take what you want, if you can.”

“Oh, I will.”

Mycroft had waited long enough and with a low moan he straddled Gregory’s bare waist, reaching over his shoulders and pressing his lover’s arms deep into the mattress as he rutted his still clothed erection against his hip. He peppered kisses down his neck before his lips wandered down and stopped just above Greg’s tattoo. Mycroft loved to mark him here, placing his own sign on his beloved skin even if it wasn’t permanent. The last love bite had faded long ago and so he nibbled at the skin there to renew it, licking circles over it until Greg squirmed under him impatiently.

“Get on with it, My!”

“I will take exactly as long as I want to, keep still.”

Tightening the grip on his arms Mycroft breathed hot air over the wet spot before he sucked a deep red mark onto the softly tanned skin, making Greg shiver under him. He kissed it proudly and ran a possessive finger over it as he sat up, reaching for the lube on the bedside table.

“Stay.” He whispered in Greg’s ear, palm pressed against the small of his back as he shifted down until he settled between spread legs. Mycroft kept his hand there, applying enough pressure to remind the fidgeting Detective Inspector who was in charge.

Without further ado he popped open the lube bottle and squeezed a healthy amount onto his fingers and started rubbing it into Greg’s cleft who hissed at the cold intrusion which, in turn earned him a light slap against the thigh.

“Up on your knees Gregory, give me a nice view while I'm doing all the work down here.”

Not that the view hadn’t been very nice already, but seeing the curve of Gregory’s back with his arse in the air and propped up on his elbows gave him that little bit more motivation to speed up his pace because his trouser were really getting tight now, even without the pants.

Greg rocked eagerly, pushing back against Mycroft’s ministrations and urging him to add a second finger. Mycroft denied him his demands, maintaining the slow penetration, easing his long elegant finger in and out with only the briefest, teasing glance against Greg’s prostate.

“Fuck My, give me more! I need more right now! You have no idea what that did to me, seeing you play like that…”

“Oh yes I do, I can feel it right here, my dear.”

He stroked his fingertips lightly up and down the underside of Greg’s leaking cock that hung heavily between his legs, fondling his balls softly he caused Greg to whimper. Mycroft placed a kiss onto one cheek before he eventually added another finger and continued to work him open until Greg’s swearing began to slur.

“What was that?”

“For fuck's sake, I need you now!”

“And you will have me soon enough.”

Mycroft waited for a few more frustrated growls until he finally pulled his fingers out and got rid of his trousers before lining himself up behind Gregory. One hand gripping his hip he slicked up his cock and edged closer until he nudged the fluttering hole, pushing inside slowly. Too slowly for Greg’s taste who pushed back until Mycroft was suddenly seated completely. They moaned in unison and suddenly engulfed by the tight, wet heat all Mycroft’s self control was gone and he began to pound into him hard and fast. Greg shouted and his knees gave out, their bodies crashing together. They were now closer than before but Mycroft’s rhythm did not waver. Greg reared up, wanted to fight for more control but Mycroft placed one hand on the back of his head and the other on his bicep, pinning him down while he continued to thrust into him forcefully. He wouldn’t last much longer, not at this pace and Greg was nearly there too, going by the sounds he sobbed into the sheets.

Mycroft released his head to wrap his arm around Greg’s chest holding him tightly, his back flush against Mycroft’s front, pulling him closer before grasping under Greg’s chin, using his arm to turn his head so they could meet in a messy, open mouthed kiss. He hooked the other arm under Greg’s armpit, grabbing his shoulder from the front so he could push in with even more force, his face now pressed against a sweaty back.

Greg was coming completely undone beneath him and Mycroft knew it was time, one hand still tugged under Greg’s arm to hold him up he reached down to where Greg raised his hips to meet his thrusts. Forming a loose ring around his throbbing cock, each new thrust would give Greg the friction he needed. He was on the edge himself and feeling how Gregory tightened around him and tensed in his grip pushed him right over and Mycroft came while hot semen was still spilling over his hand.

Panting heavily they didn’t move, enjoying the intimacy of the moment whilst their breathing began to even minute by minute. When Mycroft’s cock had gone soft enough to slip out on its own he got up slowly, but not without a last kiss on the angry red mark he had left on Gregory’s back. He cleaned them both up as best as he could before he slipped back into bed, spooning up behind a sleepy Greg.

“Is that how you plan to welcome me home every day?”

“I would love to. I admit I have planned a variety of scenarios for that occasion.”

“Mycroft Holmes, you will be the death of me…”

The vibration of the deep chuckle thrummed through Mycroft’s body and he pulled Greg closer against his body, nuzzling his nose into the soft hair that smelled heavenly of love, sex and home. He knew some day difficult times would await them, it wouldn’t always be like this, not with both of their jobs getting in the way. But right now everything was perfect.

*

You couldn’t really describe tripping over carelessly discarded shoes in the middle of the hallway on your way to the kitchen on a Monday morning as perfect. Or could you? Well, Mycroft didn’t mind. He smiled and put them away neatly, he even took the time to hang the abandoned jacket onto the coat rack before he continued his mission to make a strong espresso for his Gregory and a nice cup of tea for himself. Maybe one day it would annoy him but at the moment, every sign that his beloved felt at home was welcome; just as welcome as the sight of said beloved coming through the door in one of his colourless work suits and the kiss on his cheek when he handed over the steaming espresso cup. Even the fact that Greg had shaved didn’t spoil his mood, he would get him to grow that glorious stubble back soon enough.  

Yes, still perfect, Mycroft thought as he drank his tea and worried that Greg might catch a cold because of his refusal to dry his hair before leaving the warmth of the house. As perfect as it could be.

 

\---

_Mycroft plays Saint-Saens'[The Swan.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNbXuFBjncw&list=RDsWa8O3V8SgU)_


	19. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of family and freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with this short epilogue, part 3 of this series comes to an end. But 2014 will welcome you with part 4 and I wish you all happy holidays!
> 
> If you want, listen to the [Song of Captivity and Freedom](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zsayyf4ofGw) when you read the epilogue, I recommend it for a reason. ;)
> 
> Besides, if you haven't read it already, the little fic [Both Together](http://archiveofourown.org/works/738997) is set shortly after this part and forms a nice bridge to the next one.

_~ Sue’s POV ~_

Sue blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears that blurred her vision, but a few of them fell down her cheeks anyway. The way Mycroft played the cello along with his song choice was just a bit too much for her really.

With his eyes closed he played with so much devotion you’d think it was one of his favourites, but it wasn’t. It was one of hers. The Song of Captivity and Freedom, from the soundtrack to one of her favourite Doctor Who episodes; a melancholy song about pain and liberation. Notes full of hope and thankfulness filled the room, she was absolutely captivated. 

Sue glanced between M and her father who looked extremely proud and a bit dreamy as he watched M play. She looked at him for a little longer before he spotted her watching him and returned her bright smile when their eyes met.

This felt so right, all of it, the three of them together as a family and she wished it could always be like this. It was the first time she’d let herself admit it but she’d missed the strong, solid and stable family bond they’d once had. Papa had always been there for her, but it had been different after he moved out. Sue simply missed his presence in the house which was probably why she felt so comfortably here. In his old flat it had never felt right either and even if he always looked slightly out of place in this posh house, with his worn out jeans and old football shirts, this was right. Now she wanted everything with all of them, including Sherlock and John, wanted to go through all the ups and downs together, the fights and the making up that came with family. Although she couldn’t imagine Mycroft and papa fighting, at least not right now when everything was so peaceful. But knowing the Holmesian temper and her father’s moods, she knew there had to be arguments sometimes.

The ginger stubble on M’s chin was new, but interesting and she knew he must have lost a bet or something against papa to be letting it grow. She had visited a few times after their first weekend together and she was glad to get to know him better every time. Sue also noticed that Mycroft had come to terms with his nervousness since they first met, he was much more relaxed around her now.

As the last notes were fading she wiped her eyes and without saying a word went towards Mycroft, flinging herself over the armrest of the armchair and hugged him tightly. Just as she thought hugging him any longer would probably make him uncomfortable, she felt another pair of arms surrounding them and everything felt even more right than it had before.

After a few moments M loosened the embrace a little bit, pulling back slightly and asking for permission to take a picture of the three of them. Of course Sue agreed excitedly, wiping her wet cheeks on his suit jacket and papa nodded softly while he smoothed Mycroft’s hair that had been mussed during their hug. M struggled to stretch his arm as long as possible to get all of them into the frame of his phone’s front camera and they had to hold back their giggles. The result was a bit blurry, but it captured the joy and happiness in all of their faces perfectly and Sue began to wonder why someone with such a sharp mind like Mycroft Holmes needed a photograph to remember this. She could find out. But well, thinking about it, she didn’t need to know everything as long as everybody was happy.


End file.
